#So much tape…. So much cutting…. Although I think I’m just weak

[peteytheparrot]

My wrist hurts sooo bad I sure don’t think it has to do with the fact that I’ve been making a Bill Cipher mask and pins for the past two days or anything

[reidamancy]

too soon || spencer reid

summary: When you wake up in the hospital, buried feelings arise and you must now make a difficult decision. (spencer reid x fem!reader)

category: angst

warnings: detailed descriptions of kidnapping, mentions of guns and drugs, mild cursing

word count: 5.6k

a/n: this was really a struggle to write bc i hated how it kept turning out, but now after a month since i posted Too Late, i’m finally happy with it! this is the longest fic i’ve ever written and i hope it did Too Late justice (although i think i still like Too Late better lol)

MASTERLIST

(part one, part two)

(ICYMI: read part one here)

“I’m here, Y/N, I’m here.”

His voice echoed through your mind as you slowly gained consciousness. You smiled as you felt his hand in yours and you gave it a squeeze.

You slowly opened your eyes and greeted the blurry figure beside you. “Spencer,” you whispered with a smile.

“Spencer? Who’s Spencer?”

Your vision refocused as you looked over and saw that the figure was actually your boyfriend Connor. Your eyes widened in shock and embarrassment as you tried to laugh it off. “Sorry, he was the last person I saw.”

Guilt washed over you at once. During this entire ordeal, your boyfriend hadn’t even crossed your mind. Connor must have been so worried about you... while all you could think about was Spencer. You shut your eyes and attempted to shake the thoughts of your ex away, but much to your dismay, they stayed.

Your shallow laughs were cut off with a wince as the pain in your body hit you at once. You grimaced as you placed a hand over your stomach, trying to sublimate the pain. Connor looked at you with concerned eyes, but you waived it off. “It’s okay, I’m okay.” 

Connor shook his head as his eyes filled up with tears. He grabbed your hand and kissed the back of it. “No, you’re not, Y/N.” He leaned over and placed another kiss on your forehead. “Oh God, I thought I lost you,” he whispered as he leaned his forehead on yours. 

You smiled as you leaned into your boyfriend only to feel... nothing. You tried to combat the guilt swirling in your stomach by forcing the butterflies and happiness you felt whenever Connor was around. He’s your boyfriend, why doesn’t it feel like it? 

You bit your lip at your guilty conscience as Connor sat back and ran a hand through your hair. The tension in the air was suffocating; between Connor’s intense stare of worry to your seemingly absent feelings, you had to lighten the mood.

“You’re not getting rid of me that easily.” You quipped, laughing.

Connor’s face softened as his laughter joined yours. You heard footsteps enter the room and when you looked to see who it was, your eyes lit up. You ignored your heart’s flutters as you exclaimed, “There’s the man who saved my life!”

You tried your best to mask the overwhelming emotions that erupted once you saw Spencer. You overcompensated your guilty feelings by enthusiastically introducing your ex to your boyfriend. “Spencer, I want you to meet Connor. My boyfriend.”

You cringed at your tone as soon as the words left your mouth. Maybe you were too enthusiastic... And you were too caught up in your own delivery that you didn’t notice Spencer’s face fall. 

But your boyfriend was none the wiser as he walked towards Spencer.

“I owe you the biggest thank you. I don’t know what I’d do without her.” Connor extended his hand for a handshake, but Spencer just nodded at him. 

Spencer gave a tight smile and cleared his throat. “I should uh, I should give you two some privacy.” His eyes stayed on the ground and his voice was weak. He gave you a quick glance and said, “Glad to see you’re awake, Y/N.” before swiftly leaving the room.

Connor sat back down next to you and said, “So that’s Spencer.”

You gave a slight nod and looked away. 

---

Connor left to get lunch, leaving you alone with your thoughts. Seeing Spencer for the first time prompted a confusing set of emotions to bubble up inside of you. You were relieved to see him again; he saved your life and now you could properly thank him. 

But you couldn’t deny that what you were feeling was more than that. 

Why was your first instinct to call your ex-boyfriend, of all the people in the world? And why did your heart leap just at the sight of him? You thought you had buried these feelings long ago but right now, you felt the same as you did six months ago. It was as if your voicemail opened a Pandora box of hidden emotions. Now you just needed to find a way to close it.

Because you couldn’t afford to be thinking this way. You had a boyfriend now. Just thinking of Spencer in a different light felt like a betrayal, and you couldn’t do that to Connor. 

Besides, with all the feelings that Spencer brought back, he also brought back all the pain. No matter how much your heart longed for him, you couldn’t ignore the heartbreak that resurfaced with every thought of Spencer Reid. 

You couldn’t go down that road again. Spencer made no effort to fix what you two had after the fight, so why should you be pining after a man who doesn’t want you back? And you had to stay loyal to Connor; you can’t be thinking about your ex like this. You’ve moved on. He’s moved on.

Just then, the door swung open and a familiar mop of brown curls walked in. You pushed down your conflicting feelings and politely smiled at him. “Hi, Spencer.”

Spencer looked at you and cleared his throat. He looked disheveled, and he carried a large paper pad with him. “Hi Y/N,” he said then cleared his throat. “How are you feeling?” He asked, voice soft.

“Like I just got stabbed by a serial killer.” You deadpanned.

Spencer visibly swallowed and lowered his eyes.

You regretted your answer as soon as you saw him sulk. “Too soon?” You nervously laughed. “It was a joke, Spencer. All things considered, I’m fine.”

Spencer looked back at you and slowly nodded, staying silent. 

You glanced down at the pad he was holding. “I’m assuming you’re here on business?”

He nodded. “I’m here for your police report.”

“Oh, right,” you nodded. “I didn’t know the FBI did those.”

“I volunteered.” He glanced at you before immediately looking back down at his papers. “I uh, I thought you would want a familiar face.”

You did, and you appreciated it. “Thank you.” You smiled.

He gave a curt smile and continued. “Are you ready now or should I come back later?”

You took a deep breath and nodded. “I’m ready.”

“So tell me exactly what happened.”

You sighed as you let yourself recall the most traumatic moment of your life. “I was at the grocery store.” You set the scene again in your mind, trying to remember everything for him. “I finished putting all my bags in the trunk. I went around to the front door. I just opened it. But before I could sit down-” You took a sharp breath, the memories overwhelming you.

“It’s okay, Y/N, take your time.” His voice was sweet as he comforted you. You shut your eyes to calm yourself, trying to ground yourself with the sound of his voice.

“He uh, he put a towel over my mouth and a gun against my back. I froze, I, I should have fought but I couldn’t move and I tried not to breathe, but I couldn’t hold it any longer. I don’t know what I was breathing in but I knew-” A cry interrupted you and a tear ran down your cheek. You hadn’t even realized you started crying. 

A pained expression took over Spencer’s face. He raised his hand towards you but quickly recoiled when he realized what he was doing. He settled on just placing his hand on the side of your bed, lightly patting the hospital mattress. His hands were close, but not touching, your own. 

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, Y/N.” His voice was a whisper. 

You shut your eyes and cleared your throat, pushing through. “I knew I was in trouble,” you choked out. “Next thing I knew, I was waking up in his car. There was duct tape over my mouth. And my hands and feet were in zip ties, Spencer.” You cried as your voice broke. 

Spencer bit his lip, unsure of where the boundaries were to comfort you. He decided to innocently place his hand on top of yours. You silently thanked him for the gesture.

“I saw everything. I know which streets he went on and what turns he took. I saw the numbers on the building when he got to the warehouse. I don’t even think he knew I was awake.” Another tear ran down your cheek. Spencer’s intense gaze never left your face. You avoided his stare, but if you didn’t, you would’ve seen the immense worry in his eyes.

You took a breath before you began again. “When we got there, he carried me into this room. I tried to fight him, I tried so hard. But he was just too strong,” you cried. Your heart was racing as you remembered the fear and adrenaline you felt in that moment. “And his voice, I- I can’t forget his voice.”

Your abductor’s voice echoed in your mind as you repeated his words to Spencer.

“My, my, look what we have here.”

“You’re a pretty little thing, aren’t ya?”

“Aw, it’s just you and me now. Unless you want someone to help you?”

Your eyes were squeezed shut as his laughter rang in your ears.

“Doesn’t matter. They’ll never get here in time.”

By now, you noticed Spencer had grasped your fingers in his hand. The action was comforting. 

“He- he hit me with his gun and said, ‘Don’t try anything.’” Your head throbbed a little harder as you recalled his strike. “Then he gave me a phone and said, ‘No police. Make sure they answer.’ So, I- I called you.”

You brought yourself to look into his eyes. Tears fell from your eyes and you noticed his were glossy.

“Why?” Spencer asked.

You were taken aback by the question. You ignored the heat rising to your cheeks as you answered, “You’re an FBI agent.”

Spencer stared at you, his eyes narrowed.

You broke away from his gaze.

“Don’t do that.” You said, eyes fixed on his hand on top of yours.

“Do what?”

You brought your eyes back up to his face. “You’re profiling me.”

Spencer opened and closed his mouth, as if he were debating on what to say. “I told myself I’d never forgive you, but the truth is I already have. I can’t leave without you knowing that.” He was reciting your voicemail. “Is that true?”

Your breath hitched in your throat. You stayed silent as your eyes remained on your hand in Spencer’s. You weren’t thinking of the repercussions when you uttered the last words of your voicemail. You just knew you needed him to hear it, even if it was the last he’d ever hear from you. 

But now that Spencer was in front of you, asking for answers, you froze. This was a conversation you never planned on having, and you weren’t sure how to navigate it.

Spencer acknowledged your silence and leaned forward, disregarding his paper pad. “Y/N,” he whispered, voice soft. You avoided his eyes, feeling more tears already starting to form. “I listened to that voicemail 167 times. I memorized every word, every breath, I... Please, Y/N. Tell me I’m over-analyzing. Tell me my emotions are biasing my profiling skills. Tell me the only reason you called was because of my job.” His voice was stern, masking his hurt. If you were looking at him, you would have seen the tears in his eyes and saw that he was practically begging you to alleviate his pain.

But in your mind, all you heard was a cry from a man who didn’t want anything to do with you.

Tears fell from your eyes as you shook your head. You wanted to tell him you only called him because he’s an FBI agent. It’d only be fair. You’d go back to Connor, he’d go back to living his life. You’d both be able to move on. But it wasn’t the truth. 

Deep down, you knew you said those words to him for a reason; there was still so much left unsaid. And as afraid as you were to expose your raw emotions to him, you opted for vulnerability because it was impossible to leave this alone. 

Your voice was strained as you whispered, “I can’t.” 

“I thought I was going to die, Spencer.” You looked at him with teary eyes and were surprised to see his expression mirrored your own. “When he gave me the phone, you were the first person I thought of. I needed to talk to you one last time; there was so much I haven’t said, so much I needed to say, to you and I wasn’t thinking when I dialed. I called you because I needed you, Spencer. Not your badge.”

You let out a sniffle as the pace of your words quickened. “I wasn’t thinking,” you repeated. “I didn’t realize I was calling you until I heard your answering machine. Then everything came back to me. Your job, our memories. You gave me hope, Spencer.” You were rambling, desperate to justify your call before he could shut you down. “So I gave you clues, thinking maybe I could get out of there. But just in case it didn’t work out, I told you what I needed you to hear the most,” you sobbed. “And I know, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have called, I-”

“I never stopped loving you, Y/N.” Spencer interrupted you and confessed for the second time. He had heard all he needed to hear, and he couldn’t stand another minute without telling you. 

You froze. “What?” You breathed.

Your mind was rampant, emotions were bouncing around inside of you as your thoughts scattered.

He, he loved you. He still loves you. This changes everything. You had prepared for your resurfaced love of Spencer to go unrequited. Although a part of you longed to feel that way again, you had accepted that you lost that feeling the day you lost Spencer. You were prepared to rebury your love, but he feels the same way. How could you dismiss your feelings for him if he feels the same way?

He loves you? He can’t. Not after what he put you through. How can he say he loved you, that he never stopped loving you, after breaking your heart six months ago? How could he have loved you while you were struggling to put yourself back together in the aftermath of your relationship? It took so long for you to heal after him, and now he’s claimed to have loved you this entire time?!

“It was never you, Y/N, I-”

You took your hand out of his grasp. “No, no, Spencer. You can’t do this to me.” 

“Y/N, I’m sorry-”

“No! Do you remember the last thing you said to me?!” You held your hand over your chest as you looked at him through teary eyes.

Spencer sighed and lowered his head in shame. “Yes.” he whispered.

“Spencer, just talk to me!”

“Leave me alone, Y/N!”

Both of your minds remembered your last fight at the same time. 

It was late, you had shown up to his apartment uninvited that day. You suggested a spontaneous movie or a quick late-night dinner. He shot you down. Up until then you had tried everything, but the man in front of you was still a stranger in the shell of Spencer Reid. So after weeks of negligence, the two of you got into a screaming match in his apartment.

“I have left you alone, Spence!” You yelled through your tears. “It’s been three weeks. I’ve given you space, time, I’ve kept my distance, but enough is enough! Please, I’m just trying to help you!”

“I never asked for your help!”

“Well, can you help me Spencer?” You were sobbing now, but Spencer’s expression didn’t soften. “I haven’t felt your touch in weeks, when you’re home you feel so far away, you don’t talk to me anymore, hell you won’t even look at me!”

“Then stop being so fucking clingy.” He sneered in your face.

“Clingy?!” You screamed. “Is it clingy to want a relationship with my boyfriend?! I don’t even know who you are anymore!”

Spencer glared at you and you tried one more time. “Please, Spencer. I just want to fix us. I don’t know what happened when you were away but if you’d just let me-”

“I don’t.”

“You don’t...?”

“I don’t want to fix us.”

Your breath had hitched and your heart dropped. “You don’t mean that.”

“Oh yeah? And how would you know? You don’t know me anymore apparently.”

“Spence, I, I love you, and I know you’re going through a hard time-”

“I don’t.”

Hot tears silently fell down your cheeks. You had to be sure what he was saying, even if it broke your heart. “You don’t... what?”

“Love you.”

You bit your lip as a sob racked through your body. “You’re upset. I’m going to leave, and we can talk in the morning.” You turned your back towards him as you began to open the door. But his voice interrupted your action and broke your heart in one sentence.

���Yeah, don’t even bother coming back.”

Tears were now streaming down Spencer’s face as he said, “I didn’t mean it, Y/N. You have to know-”

“No, Spencer. What I know is you broke my heart. You don’t get to come back and tell me you loved me all along. It isn’t fair.”

“No, what isn’t fair is you clearly still have feelings for me and you’re not letting me reciprocate them!” Spencer’s voice raised in pitch as he increasingly became exasperated.

“I, I never said that.” You scoffed, feeling the dryness in your throat. 

“You didn’t have to.” Spencer whispered. He licked his lips and leaned forward. “Y/N, your pupils are dilated. Your pulse is 30% higher than usual.”

Your brows furrowed in confusion as to how he knew that. But then you became acutely aware of the heart-rate monitor behind you and it made sense. You steadied your breathing, attempting to calm down and rid yourself of these involuntary tells. 

He lowered his eyes and bit his lip, “And when I told you I still loved you, your demeanor completely changed. You didn’t have to say anything, Y/N, I...”

“Spencer, stop.”

“You’re probably confused. A near death experience combined with the emotions of a past relationship-”

“Spencer, please.”

“Maybe I have confirmation bias, but everything points to you still having feelings-”

“Spencer, I don’t want to feel this way!” You half-shouted at him.

Your words hung in the air as both of you processed them. The two of you stared at each other, letting out heavy breaths at the intense atmosphere.

“What?” He breathed.

“I don’t want to feel this way, Spencer.” You shook your head as more tears escaped you. “Spencer, you broke me. I truly thought you were the one, but you didn’t even give us the chance. I don’t know what happened, but I would’ve gone through anything with you, Spencer. We could have worked through it together. If you had just let me...” You trailed off as sobs racked your body.

Spencer hung his head as tears fell into his lap.

“Did you know I came back the next morning?” You croaked. You heard a small gasp from Spencer and continued, “I don’t know why. I was staring at your door, trying to knock, but I couldn’t do it.”

“Y/N, why didn’t you tell me? I would’ve...” Spencer started but he trailed off. Even he knew that at that point in time, he would have only hurt you more than he already had.

“What was I supposed to think Spencer? You ignored me for weeks, and when we finally talked, you told me to leave. You obviously didn’t want me there anymore. But I wanted to knock, I wanted to knock so bad. I just, I couldn’t handle being shot down again. So I left.”

You swiped away the tears on your face. “And I figured you’d call me if you wanted to talk again. But you never did. And I had my answer.”

Spencer let out a sob. “I didn’t know it yet, but I needed you.”

“And I needed you, Spencer. Those weeks before our breakup were hell. All I wanted was my boyfriend back.” You cried.

“But I’m here now, Y/N.” Spencer breathed and you shook your head. He continued through his tears and said, “I’m here and I still love you as much as I did back then. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. All I could ever think about was you and how I lost you...” Spencer’s voice became a whisper. He grabbed your hand. You let him. 

“I wasn’t in my right mind, Y/N. I became addicted to dilaudid and I pushed everyone away because I thought I could handle it by myself. But that’s when I needed you the most. If I could take it all back, if I could take back all the pain I’ve caused, I would. I’m so so sorry for hurting you, Y/N.” Spencer sobbed.

“It took me so long to heal from you, Spencer.” you cried. “I can’t go down that road again... but for some reason my heart can’t let you go.” You stared at your hands as you gave into temptation and slowly interlocked your fingers through his. You could hear Spencer’s breath hitch at the small action. He squeezed your hand and the two of you looked at each other with teary eyes. 

“Why can’t I get over you? Why do I still love you even after you broke my heart? I don’t want to feel this way. There are so many reasons I shouldn’t be feeling this way.” You cried. “But I just can’t help it.” You looked up at him through damp lashes and saw him biting his lip.

“I never should have let you walk through that door. I miss us, Y/N. I didn’t know how much I needed you in my life until you left. Please, Y/N. I’ve tried to move on, but I just couldn’t. It’s you, Y/N, it’s always been you. And even after all this time, I still love you... It’s scary how much I still love you.”

“You didn’t tell me he was your ex.” A voice interrupted you and your head jerked towards the door to see Connor standing at the entrance. 

You snatched your hand out of Spencer’s as you stammered, “Con- Connor! How long have you...”

“Long enough.” He rolled his eyes. “Look Y/N. I am no one’s rebound, and I am definitely no one’s second choice.” Connor scoffed. “Here’s your lunch.” He dropped one of his bags down on a nearby chair and left the room. 

“Connor!” You called out to him but it was too late. You sighed as you leaned back against your hospital bed. 

You wiped the tears from your cheeks as you looked over at Spencer. He licked his lips and quietly said, “But I understand if I’m too late. Time changes people. Just say the word, and I’ll leave you alone.” He got up to leave but you reached for his arm. 

“Spencer,” you stopped him. He looked back at you, completely broken. You blinked the tears out of your eyes but no words came out. The two of you stood, frozen in time with unspoken words written over your faces. 

You weren’t sure what you wanted to say. You wanted to say something, anything.

But when no words left your mouth, he gave you a small nod then left the room. 

You were still frozen, your hand in the same position it was when it was on his arm. Your mind was scattered and your heart was torn. What just happened?

---

You stayed in the hospital for two more days. Since then you had a few visitors, but none from the two men you needed to see the most. 

It gave you time to think. You now held two hearts in your hands and you weren’t sure what to do.

With Connor, he was a safe choice. And he was still your boyfriend. Just the thought of betraying him and getting back with your ex didn’t sit right with you at all. Connor was a good guy, he was smart, cute, funny, and a total sweetheart. Not to mention, he was there to pick up the pieces that Spencer left behind. How could you betray him after all of that and go running back to your ex?

But Connor was a temporary high that could never compare to the way Spencer made you feel. Spencer was your greatest love. He showed you what love was supposed to be; Spencer Reid was everything you wanted in a man and more. Your relationship with Spencer was a whirlwind of emotions, and the two of you had a love you could only dream about... up until the last month. 

But were you willing to overlook that, in the name of true love? The spark between you and Spencer was undeniable, but the foundation of a committed relationship was lacking: trust. You didn’t know if you could trust him with your heart again. And the worst part, Spencer Reid had so much power over you because you were still undeniably head over heels for the young genius. 

But could you could forget about him and continue living your life with Connor? Maybe one day you and Connor could have what you and Spencer had. Or maybe you never will. Was it worth the risk?

You looked back on all the memories you shared with Connor, looking for a sign, any sign to stay. You were desperate to protect your heart from more heartache, even if it meant losing Spencer. You thought back to the beginning of your relationship and tried to remember the blissful feeling Connor gave you. How he brought out butterflies in your stomach and made your heart skip a beat. But that’s when you realized that euphoria you used to feel was nothing but a distant memory. Your entire relationship with Connor was based on a short-lived infatuation. An infatuation that ended the minute you dialed Spencer.

Because the entire time, Connor was a distraction from your feelings for Spencer. Connor may have masked your feelings for your ex, but they were still there. They always were. At that point, it was undeniable. You knew you had to follow your heart.

---

After you were discharged from the hospital, you knew exactly what to do. Your plan was simple: you’d make a quick stop before going to straight to Spencer’s apartment. But there was one factor you didn’t take into account. It was the first time you’ve been truly alone since the abduction. You caught yourself looking over your shoulder multiple times, and your heart raced as you rode on the subway. Everyday acts became daunting, and the task at hand didn’t help to calm your nerves.

It felt like years before you found yourself staring at Spencer’s apartment door. Your heart was still beating out of your chest as you stared at his apartment number. You took a deep breath and remembered the last time you were standing here. You weren’t going to make the same mistake again.

You knocked. 

There was the quiet patter of footsteps behind the door, and you felt your heart rate pick up as the shadows came closer. 

Finally the door swung open, and a tired-looking Spencer answered. Once you saw him, you couldn’t hold it in anymore; you immediately burst into tears. 

“Y/N?” He said your name in confusion before instinctively pulling you into a warm hug.

He backtracked when he realized his hug might have been unwelcome, but when you rested your head against his shoulder, he instantly relaxed as he pulled you into a full embrace. He pulled you into his apartment and shut the door, giving the two of you some privacy. 

He held you close as your tears flowed, his hands silently comforting you. You let out a sigh because now that you were in his arms, you finally felt safe. His shirt was balled in your fists as you whispered his name. “Spencer.” You breathed shakily.

His hands ran up and down your back. “I’m right here, Y/N.”

“Please don’t leave me.” You cried as you held on to him tighter. 

He shook his head. “Never, Y/N, never again.”

“Spencer, I’m scared.”

The proximity of your bodies allowed Spencer to feel your heartbeat as it pounded in your chest. Your hands trembled as they held on to his shirt, and he realized the true cause of your tears. 

He held onto you tighter as he said, “He’s never going to hurt you again, Y/N.” He heard you take a shaky breath, so he emphasized, “Ever.”

You took a step back to look at him. Your hands were now interlocked behind his neck as you looked into his eyes. “Thank you,” you weakly whispered. “Thank you for saving me.”

Spencer bit his lip and shamefully lowered his head. “I should’ve been there sooner.”

You shook your head. The odds were against him, and you knew that. But he made it. He was there, and not a moment too soon. Spencer saved your life, and he was just in time.

You released one of your hands from his neck and traced his jawline until you got to his chin. You used your thumb to gently bring his eyes back up to yours. “You were right on time,” you whispered. 

Spencer’s brows furrowed as he eyed your bandages, but before he could say anything you closed the gap between the two of you and pulled him into a kiss.

You both smiled into the kiss as your hands found their way into his hair. Your fingers weaved their way into his curls as he snaked his arms around your waist and pulled you up toward him. You got on your tip toes to meet his tall stature.

As your lips moved in sync, your bodies moved impossibly close as the two of you engulfed each other. Holding each other tight, his soft lips moved against yours until you both had run out of air. He pulled away and let his forehead rest on yours.

Spencer licked his lips. “Um, what about...”

“I broke up with Connor.”

A huge smile broke out on Spencer face, but he quickly regained his composure and nonchalantly said, “You did?”

You nodded. “Yeah, like literally just now.” You let out a small chuckle as you nervously asked, “It’s not too soon is it?”

Spencer laughed and said, “I’ve been waiting six months for this.”

You felt the heat rising to your cheeks as you smiled. Your hands traveled down his shoulders and onto his chest, resting right above his heart. 

“I never stopped loving you, either.” You whispered. 

His hands retreated from your waist and moved up your body until they met your shoulders. His large palms engulfed your shoulders in warmth, leaving behind a trail of goosebumps as they went down your arms and onto your hands. He pulled your palms away from his chest and into his own and you interlocked your fingers.

“Please don’t leave me,” you repeated, only this time the words had an entirely different meaning. Spencer’s heart broke at the implication, though he knew your insecurity was completely valid.

“I promise I will make up these last seven months to you.” He brought your interlocked hands up to his face and kissed the back of your hand. “And I will never lose you again.”

Spencer brought a hand under your chin and lifted your face towards his. “You’re so strong you know that?” You broke out into a huge smile as tears welled in your eyes. You cupped the sides of his face with both of your hands and replied, “So are you.” 

You brought his face down to place a kiss on the tip of his nose. “Addiction is no joke. I wish I could have been there so you didn’t have to go through it alone.” Spencer shamefully lowered his eyes. “But,” you quickly added. You ran your thumb along his cheek bone and said, “I’m so proud of you for overcoming it.”

He smiled and kissed your forehead. “And I’m proud of you, Y/N. That beautiful mind of yours saved your life.” Tears silently fell down your cheeks as you smiled up at him.

Spencer smiled as he used his thumb to wipe the tears away. “I love you so much, Y/N.” He whispered in the softest voice. He pulled you into another hug as he whispered into your ear, “And I’ll never let anything happen to you again.” His breath was warm against your ear, and his voice sent shivers down your spine. “I promise.”

You held him tighter as you said, “I love you, Spence.”

Spencer instantly relaxed at the nickname, missing the way it fell from your lips. You rested your head on his shoulder as his arms held you close. The two of you finally had what you had denied yourselves for six months, and both of you were doing everything to savor the moment. With eyes closed, your bodies swayed together, holding each other tight and memorizing the way you felt in each other’s arms.

After missing him for the past half year, being here with Spencer just felt... natural. It felt like you just came home. He was your home. And for the first time in six months, you were finally where you belonged.

[natasha-romanoff-deserved-better]

The Day The Music Died

Summary:

“This’ll be the day that I die,” Yelena had sung those exact words in the car that day, and no lies were told.

Natasha never wanted to hear that song again.

Word Count: 3437

Also on Ao3 here

~~~

Natasha stares at the bandages wrapped tightly around Clint’s left wrist, eyes locked in on the red spots where extra blood had been soaked up by the gauze. Clint’s tapping his fingers on the steering wheel, softly drumming along to the song playing from the radio as he maneuvers the car around a bend in the old back road.

“I can feel you staring.” He says, snapping Natasha out of her trance. Clint takes his eyes off the road for a second to catch her gaze. “Nat, I’m fine. I promise.” It’s not going to change what happened, but he still tries. These types of missions were always hard on Natasha, and it’d only been made that much worse when one of the target’s bodyguards had managed to catch Clint’s forearm with a knife, dangerously close to critical veins. There had been a lot of blood and although Nat was easily able to stitch his skin back together, the close call had scared her - even if she refused to admit it out loud.

“I know you’re fine, idiot. It’s impossible to get rid of you.” She snorts and sends him a small smile. The radio cuts into a commercial, advertising their station and morning talk show before launching into another song.

A long, long time ago

I can still remember how that music

Used to make me smile

Natasha frowns at the song as an alarm bell begins to blare in the back of her head at the notes that drift out of the speakers. She furrows her eyebrows at it, a sinking feeling coming over her. Images from another time threaten to overtake her, and she’s too weak to stop them.

And I knew if I had my chance

That I could make those people dance

And maybe they'd be happy for a while

A blonde little girl, only five years old, prances around the front yard. She’s barefoot and wearing her pink sparkly sundress, hair pulled up into pigtails as she tries to catch a ladybug. Natasha watches from her perch among the tree branches. Mom Melina is kneeled on the ground as she works on the garden in front of the house, planting new flowers to replace the dead ones. She’s brought her portable stereo out, sitting it on the porch and playing at full volume. Natasha isn’t even aware of what song is playing until Yelena is running up to the porch, begging her to play it again. Mom Melina does. And then plays it again with an amused smile and quirked eyebrow when Yelena asks for a third time. Yelena cheers with joy as it starts again and rises to her tip toes as she begins to twirl and dance to the music.

Nobody knows what it is about the song that Yelena likes so much, but she loves it. She constantly asks for it, so much so that Melina loads it onto a cassette tape and keeps it in the car just for her. Natasha doesn’t quite understand what most of the lyrics are talking about, but she decides she doesn’t mind the song for Yelena. In a way, it fits- Yelena is the picture perfect little all american girl, apple pie personified.

Natasha’s frozen in her seat. She pleads with herself to move, to turn off the radio. She doesn’t want to hear this. She knows what verses are coming next, and her breathing catches in her throat as they start. These words hold no comfort for her anymore.

Bye Bye Miss American Pie

Drove my Chevy to the levee but the levee was dry

And them good ol boys were drinking whiskey and rye

Singin’ this’ll be the day that I die

This’ll be the day that I die

Her sister’s high-pitched voice singing the words, a beat behind as she moves her hands cheerfully, lost in the rhythm of the song. She’s buzzing with excitement- ready for her promised big adventure, too young and oblivious to notice their parent’s anxiety or her sister’s internal crisis happening in the seat next to her. Natasha can’t look at her sister, she doesn’t want her to see the panic she knows is written over her face. Instead, she keeps her eyes locked out the window, trying desperately to commit everything to memory. The red, white, and blue lights that light up the night, the football game where a band plays and people cheer, the abundance of restaurants where families are sat enjoying dinner. The normalness of it all makes her angry - how can all these people be so casual when her world is falling apart at the seams? Yelena begins to sing the verse about dying, and it takes everything within Natasha to not snap at her. She can’t bear to listen to her little sister singing about dying, so blissfully unaware of the possibility of the verse becoming true at any moment now. Natasha should say something to her, tell her to stop, tell her what was happening. But the lure of pretending one last time is too great for her to give away. She doesn’t say anything.

Did you write the book of love

A photo album, thick with pictures of them all sit on the shelf. It’s Natasha’s favorite thing in the house, and she often sneaks out of bed to stare at the photos. Realistically, she knows they’re all fake. But if she tries hard enough, thinks long enough, she swears she can recall the events. Thanksgiving had been fun; the food had been the best she’d ever tasted. Their summer vacation had been at the beach, and she swears she can feel the sun warming her face and the sand between her toes.

And do you have faith in God above

If the bible tells you so?

She and Clint had gone to a church once, as part of an undercover mission. She’d ended up having to walk out in the middle of the service. It had been too much. She could never believe in it, even if she wanted to. No loving God would ever create the horrors she had seen before her 13th birthday or give her a family purely to steal it all away so violently.

Can music save your mortal soul

And can you teach me how to dance real slow?

Natasha’s feet hit the ground, still en pointe, as she lands the perfect Grand Jete. She tosses her arms out in the landing pose and holds it for a second before excited clapping breaks her concentration. Yelena sits there, smiling wide as possible, clad in her own black leotard and pink tights. She’s in the younger classes, not as advanced as Natasha yet, but it doesn’t stop her from trying. Yelena scrambles to her feet, crossing the floor to stand next to her sister.

“Teach me, teach me!”

It’s a complicated step, and Natasha knows she’s not ready for it just yet. She doesn’t want her to get hurt.

“I’ll teach you when you’re older, okay?” Yelena nods, and turns to the mirror, copying Natasha’s arm positions.

Natasha tries to force another breath into her lungs, but it’s harder now, her throat and chest constricted. She squeezes her eyes closed, trying to block out the flashbacks that continue to assault her.

Now for ten years we’ve been on our own

And moss grows fat on a rolling stone

But that’s not how it used to be.

Fifteen years. It had been fifteen goddamn years since Natasha had seen her sister for the last time. She refuses to let herself think of what might have happened to her. It pains her to think of her baby sister, who had once been so full of life, in such a horrid place.

Natasha wraps her arms around herself, arms holding each other tightly. She digs her fingernails into her skin, attempting to give herself something else to focus on and ground her. It doesn’t work.

Bye Bye Miss American Pie

Drove my Chevy to the Levee but the Levee was dry

Them good ol boys were drinking whiskey and rye

And signing this will be the day that I die

This’ll be the day that I die

Natasha doesn’t know how long they’ve been stuffed into this shipping container, crowded against a hundred other little girls. They’re all dirty, all starving, all terrified. The scent of sweat and urine threatens to suffocate them, the air hot and heavy.

She has tugged Yelena into her lap, arms protectively crossed over her torso to hold her close- hasn’t let go of her since the second they were put into here for fear of losing her amongst the other girls. She’s so tiny, and Natasha doesn’t trust any of the others.

Yelena stirs, a small whimper falling from her lips. Natasha tries to shush her gently, but it doesn’t work, and her sister keeps squirming. Her cries are starting to grow in volume, and one of the girls next to them sends them a dirty look.

“Yelena, Yelena. I’m here. You’re with me.” It’s the only words of comfort Natasha can offer her. She wishes she could tell her they were okay, that she was safe, that they were going to be fine. Instead, all she can do is assure her that her older sister had her. Yelena had stopped calling out for her mom a while ago, after her calls went unanswered and she finally realized no one was coming to rescue them. Natasha shifts them around, turning her back towards the others and away from prying eyes. Natasha turns Yelena on her lap, so that Yelena is facing her. “Yelena, look at me.”

Yelena shakes her head, so Natasha gently cups both sides of her face, titling her face up so that she has no choice. Yelena doesn’t resist, just locks her tear-filled eyes onto Natasha.

“I’m scared,” Yelena sobs through hitching breaths as her body trembles.

Natasha clutches her tighter and brings her closer, so close their noses are almost touching. “Don’t cry, Lena. Just sing with me.” Yelena frowns at her in confusion, and Natasha starts to sing under her breath, quietly, so that Yelena is forced to quite herself down and focus to hear the words.

She starts with the chorus, the part that Yelena knows and likes the best. “Bye, Bye, Miss American pie,” Natasha sings. The corner of Yelena’s lips quirks up in recognition. Nat pauses, prompting Yelena to sing the next line herself.

Her voice quivers, but she sings it anyways. “Drove my chevy to the levee…” Natasha nods in encouragement and joins her for the next verse. “But the levee was dry.” They sing the next few lines together. They near the last two lines of the chorus though, and this time, Natasha can’t allow her to sister to sing the last line. They hurt too much, they’re too real.

So she interrupts Yelena, skipping forward past the “Day that I die” line and jumping right into the next verse. Yelena doesn’t even question it, just follows her sister’s lead and allows herself to be completely absorbed in the whispered song.

Natasha sings almost the entire song to her sister, doing her best to remember as many lyrics as she could, and then starts over. She keeps singing, over and over again, until her voice starts to crack, and Yelena’s eyes are slipping closed in exhaustion.

“Tasha?” Clint calls, picking up the tension in his partner. She doesn’t respond, just stays frozen in her seat, locked in her own little world. “Hey,” He calls, a bit louder this time. He takes one hand off the wheel and places it on her shoulder gently. “Nat. What’s going on?” She’s shaking.

Instead of answering, Natasha claps her hands over her ears and leans forward, bending at the waist so she can rest her head atop her knees. She’s shaking her head, muttering something under her breath.

We all got up to dance

Oh, but we never got the chance

“Teach me, teach me!”

“…When you’re older.”

Natasha never got the chance to teach Yelena that ballet move. She wonders just how many other promises to her baby sister she’s broken.

“I’m going to pull over, Nat, okay?” A male’s voice comes from somewhere close by. His hand moves from her shoulder onto her back, to rub small circles on it.

Do you recall what was revealed

The day the music died?

She had never felt so stupid. Standing on that airway strip, holding a gun out in front of her, blocking Yelena. She had let her fall into the lie, childishly believe that maybe, just maybe Dad Alexei loved them like he said he did. As Alexei kneels before them, showing no sympathy to his daughters tears, she realizes that had never been the case.

The chorus starts again, and she feels bile rise in her stomach. “Bye Bye Miss American Pie” Natasha remembers how she had stolen that gun from a solider, shoved her sister behind her and threatened to kill numerous grown men for touching her. How desperately she had clung to Yelena when they’d been ripped apart. She hadn’t been ready to give up her sister, not ready to say goodbye to the American dream lie they had built side by side. “Drove my Chevy to the Levee but the levee was dry” The memory of Yelena’s face during those few days had haunted Natasha’s dreams for years. It had frightened her- even more so than the men with oversized guns. She had never seen her sister, who laughed at everything and loved the world with everything in her, look so despondent. She had tried telling her jokes to pry some kind of smile out of her. It didn't work. “This’ll be the day that I die” Yelena had sung those exact words in the car that day, and no lies were told. That day, when dad Alexei handed them back to Russians soldiers, they had both died. Died only to be remade and ruthlessly forged into something new, nothing more than weapons of mass destruction and trained killers.

There’s cussing to her left that pulls her back halfway to the present. She’s in a car, and she’s covered in vomit that runs down her front and onto her chest and lap. Clint has a hand on her, and he’s telling her just a second, Nat.

“Clint?” She asks, still slightly confused. She can still feel the weight of a smaller body on top of her, feel the soft blonde curls against her chin.

“I’m here, Tasha. Hold on.”

Oh, and there we were all in one place

A generation lost in space

With no time to start again

Countless little girls standing in a straight line, blank expressions, awaiting their next commands. They’re all mirrors of each other, no identity left for any of them to cling onto. Natasha scans over each girl, searching for the blonde waves she knows so well. She can’t find her.

The song drags on as Clint navigates the car off the road, coming to stop. He jumps out and jogs around, flinging Natasha's door open. She doesn’t move, so he reaches in and unbuckles her before slipping his hands into her armpits and pulling her out of the car. She tumbles to the ground, falling onto her knees.

And as I watched him on the stage

My hands clenched in fists of rage

No angel born in hell

Could break that Satan’s spell

Natasha catches Dreykov’s eyes on them, and she tightens her hold on Yelena’s hand. Her sister makes a small noise - she’s going to have bruises with how tight Nat is holding her- but doesn’t pull her hand away. Natasha curls her free hand into a tight fist, ready to swing if need be.

Dreykov says something to the men with guns next to him and points a finger at them. The soldiers start moving forward, and Natasha backtracks, tries to back up but Yelena stumbles at the sudden change in direction.

I saw Satan laughing with delight

The day the music died

Natasha screams her sister's name, gripping onto her as tightly as she can. Soldiers have hands on them both, ripping them away from each other. Dreykov is standing several feet away, a tiny smile on his face. Yelena is shrieking, hands desperately trying to keep her grasp on Natasha with all the strength in her six-year-old frame.

They lose their grip on each other and are dragged apart. Yelena’s voice dies out as they carry away the only thing Natasha had left.

Bye Bye Miss American Pie -

“Turn it off!” Natasha pleads, before promptly vomiting even more onto the ground. Clint’s hands support her head, keeping her from falling. “Off, please. I can’t. Turn it--” Clint’s hands leave her for a second as he scrambles over her, reaching through the open passenger door and slamming the power button on the radio.

Natasha lets out a breath, thankful for the silence. With the song no longer playing, her head is beginning to clear, the painful images retreating somewhere she could lock them away again.

“All done?” Clint asks her. She spits out one last string of bile and nods her head, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand as Clint helps her sit up and lean against his leg. He doesn’t rush her, just allows her to sit and try to regain control of her breathing as he combs his fingers through her hair.

When Natasha can finally think again, she frowns at herself in disgust. “Sorry,” She apologizes.

“You don’t need to apologize to me,” he tells her. Clint reaches over and opens the backdoor, grabbing his go bag and digging around until his fingers find one of his clean T-shirts. He yanks it out, closes the door. “Can I help you change, or do you want to do it yourself?”

He’s honestly not even sure if she could change herself right now, with how much she was still shaking, but he gives her the choice anyways. She shrugs her shoulders, her way of accepting help without actually having to accept. “Okay, arms up.” Natasha raises her arms, and Clint carefully tugs her shift off her by the collar, making sure the filthy outside never touched any of her skin. He crumples up the shirt into a ball and tucks it in a bag. He bunches up his shirt at the neck hole and slides it over her head before gently guiding her arms through. It takes a lot for his partner to get to this state, and his concern grows with every passing second that goes by and Natasha is still out of it. He fixes the shirt over her torso, making sure she’s completely covered and then sinks down to the ground, leaning his back against the wheel of the car. There’s a soft breeze in the air, the slight chill nipping at their skin a welcome distraction. “C’mere,” he says, and guides Natasha into his side. She tenses for a moment, but then lets her head drop onto his shoulder, allowing Clint to take her weight. He wraps an arm around her to hold her close.

“I’m sorry,” Natasha repeats, and this time Clint doesn’t say anything. He knows she’s not apologizing to him, but someone not in their presence. He doesn’t push it. She’ll tell him when she’s ready, on her own time. He has guesses though. Clint had an older brother, and he knows what a protective but burnt-out older sibling looks like. He’s seen the way her eyes linger on certain little girls in public before snapping back, caught the way she had once brushed her fingers over a fabric doll with pink hair on a store shelf, heard the way she is able to understand children’s speech without any effort. She’s never mentioned a younger sibling before, but sometimes in her sleep, she mumbles a girl’s name, her hands clenched in fists as if trying to hold on to her.

He presses a kiss to her temple, a silent promise. He won’t push her- He doesn’t need to know exactly what happened. He knows how to support her and how to take care of her when she needs it and for now, that’s enough.

Years later, Natasha will press her forehead to an adult Yelena’s, both panting from the fight, Yelena upside down and laying in the wreckage of the red room. Dreykov is finally dead, by Yelena’s hand. Yelena cracks a joke, and Natasha smiles. They’ll never again be those little girls they once were, but they’ve finally found each other.

[chussyracing]

☕ charles because I cannot help myself

Our sweetest baby, our little sunshine, the reason we wake up in the morning, our shared community girlfriend, our tiny little cherub, our sweet lil duckling, the cutest darling, the most polite babyboy, the snuggliest cuddle bug.

chrainrot (charles brainrot) under the cut

I can never put into words what he means to me, I like him so much it makes me look silly but I’m past the point of caring now. Everyone loves him (if they don’t, they’re simply not relevant for this conversation and they can die jealous of him) because he has this bright personality that makes u smile unintentionally. He gives everyone those heart eyes and smiles with that sweet soft look on his face whether he is talking to someone on his team or other drivers or in interviews or with fans. He adores his fans almost as much as we adore him, he will spend hours signing stuff just to make everyone happy, he will give out all the caps he brought with him to a race weekend just to give it to someone he meets, he will stop to take pictures although he is all sweaty and tired and hungry and what not. And he is the best brother to Arthur and Lorenzo and you can SEE how strong that bond is and it never changed with the fame, they are still the little boys who adore each other who won’t stop protecting each other although they are more grown up now.

He is so beautiful, like so beautiful he transcends sexuality. I haven’t liked LIKED a man in years and here we are. His hair is so soft and while other drivers ruin it with a new haircut or a ton of hair gel, it never happens with charles because somehow he still pulls it off (and when he takes of his balaclava and his hair is so sweaty and all over the place, some part of me always dies inside he’s just too pretty). His eyes are the shiniest little stars and they bear so many emotions in them they can make u cry or laugh or fall in love in seconds, he’s like a siren. His cheeks are asking to be held in your palms so you can feel it when he blushes underneath and when his dimples appear so u could poke them and make him giggle. His lips are so perfectly heart-shaped it makes u question if he is real or just a figment of your imagination. They look so soft and always so pink and he never stops licking them in interviews and it drives me absolutely crazy, i need to bite my fist just thinking about it. I will skip talking about the rest becasue again, I’m gay and I could genuinely write sonnets about the shape of his tiddies and about the purpose his thighs were shaped just like THAT. Let me just tell you they are perfect exactly the way they are they serve the purpose exactly how god intended. You can shit on his fashion sense all u want but i’m kinda digging it. He just pulls it off although I wouldn’t wear half the stuff in his closet (closet lol, no more gay jokes i know, i will shut up). You know how the clothes would look even better? on the bedroom floor. And his voice and his accent aww I could cry sometimes when he talks and i also wanna make a tape to listen to to fall asleep instead of a lullaby. He is so smart it only makes sense he can switch between like 6 languages. Idk what is bigger his brain his heart or his [redacted] (unrelated but one day we need to speak about his hands and fingers and rings and how he grips the wheel and how he stroked that trophy and how he plays piano gently and about the veins good lord take mercy on me)

Last but not least of course, he is such a talented driver. It was literally meant to be, he couldn’t be anywhere but in Ferrari. The fate threw everything at him and yet here we are, look at him thriving, look at him serving cunt, look at him being faster than anyone else on the track, look at him thinking about the race like a game of chess, knowing where to overtake anyone what is each driver’s weakness, where he gains and losts the most. He worked so hard on himself both mentally and physically and now they provided him with a car to shine and i can’t believe some people are only catching up now like sorry u uncultured swine why don’t u rewatch the whole 2017 f2 season and maybe u realize why he is called il predestinato. He can smash alfa 37902 B on his wheel while drivin 250 kmph, he can wave to the fans while speeding around the track, he has DEVILISH starts and can overtake from outside and from inside, he can pull out a perfect 360° and continue his lap unbothered and he can fucking pull xavi’s leg on the radio in the last lap of a race that ended prematurely for many drivers due to reliability issues. i am asking IS THERE ANYTHING THIS MAN CAN’T DO?

Send ☕ + [topic] for spicy opinions

[fairfowl]

Lie There and Breathe pt 3: His Friend

A horde clone oc story (part one here, part two here)

Tw: gore, ableism, eye trauma, pneumonia

At first the light was unbearable. 

The clone immediately tried to squeeze his right eye tightly shut but the act of tensing his face sent spikes of pain that nearly toppled him over onto the cot. Everything felt too vulnerable, too exposed, and the black hole of his left eye was pain compounded upon pain. The deep ache that reverberated through his skull was layered by fire that seemed to consume the torn flesh at the surface. His head spun. 

Master Mendus’s hands held him firmly upright while the apprentice Dawn used a sharp smelling liquid to wash the coagulated blood and other fluids from his face, starting from his jawline and moving upward to clear his right eye which seemed to be intact, if glued shut. 

She cleared the entire uninjured part of his face, but conspicuously left a large portion of the left side of his face untouched.

As she worked all the clone knew was sharp unyielding light, the continued rasping of his brother on the cot nearby, and pain drilling deep into his skull. As his sight cleared a figure coalesced through the brightness, silhouetted against a backdrop of pure white. For a moment the clone thought that he was witnessing Prime reborn.

And then he blinked.

When the clone refocused he saw not the glorious figure of Horde Prime but a skinny long-faced Etherian girl, with a six-pointed rack of antlers and a serious expression.

He saw Dawn.

The clone let out a long breath. Anxiety over his own helplessness had plagued him since he had first awakened and he was relieved to find that he had not been permanently blinded. At least one eye still functioned, although his vision was a bit blurry and the world wavered dizzily before him. There was a bubbling lightness in his chest that the clone could not contain, and he could not help the small smile that tugged at his lips. 

There was light.

He turned away from Dawn, towards the sound of breathing, and was delighted to see his companion sleeping peacefully. His body rested on a simple cot, the head of which was propped up so that he was in a half-sitting position. The Breather looked drawn and tired but not direly ill, bandages wrapped thickly around his chest. There were also wrappings around his right hand, which was laid across the bandages on his chest, and his right leg from the knee down. Other exposed skin was bruised or scraped as though his body had met stone with some force. Beyond that he looked like any of Horde Prime’s Little Brothers

His smile widened.

Here was his companion, mostly whole and recovering. While he himself might be mutilated and weak he was no longer entirely blind and between the two of them it looked as though they both had the capacity to be mobile again. As long as they sustained no further injuries they might stand a chance yet.

He wondered again why the Etherians might be keeping them alive, and suspected that his purpose in the future might be labor. Horde Prime in his infinite wisdom had created the clones in his own image, and they were hardy creatures, capable of feats of strength as well as extreme delicacy. Any conqueror might find them useful, although they would be less effective without the hivemind and the benevolent guidance of Prime.

“Is this your friend?” Dawn asked, drawing his attention back with a snap.

The clone’s smile dropped, and he felt his ears twitch before stilling in pain. All of the functional clones were identical and in the absence of the hivemind he simply could not tell if he had ever met his companion prior to the fall of Prime. A bolt of shame ran through him although he did not understand what he was feeling or why. 

“No.” He responded simply, glancing down at the dirt floor.

“It’s just…” She trailed off, turning to rummage through her supplies, readying new bandages with which to dress his wounds. “I saw you reaching for him before you fell.”

The clone could feel his face heat up as he blushed, and he wished more than anything that he could lay back down and curl into a ball until everything went away. 

“Iwantedtomakesurehewasokay” He sped through the words nervously, lacing his fingers together for want of anything else to do. The elation within his chest had turned to uncomfortable squirming. Beside him The Breather rasped on, but the sound had ceased to be a comfort. Instead it was a reminder that while the clone had become entirely dependent upon his companion’s presence the other clone had been unconscious the entire time. The Breather did not know him. They were together by mere coincidence and nothing but their similar misfortune held them together. 

“He…” The clone started again, resisting the panic that once again rose like a tide within him. “I thought I could keep him safe. I did not want to be alone.” 

He glanced back up at Dawn and saw that she had stilled, her back was turned to him and he could see brown strands of hair slipping free from the long brown braid that hung between her shoulder blades. Master Mendus’s hands had tightened on his arms and the clone could feel himself taking quick shallow breaths. 

“Good boy.” The wry voice from behind his back said. Master Mendus’s hands gentled and the clone could feel a steady hand begin to rub circles along his back. He closed his eye and concentrated on the sensation. As long as he had something to focus on he could regain control, and Mendus’s hands were warm. 

“You wanted to look after him even though you were already in danger yourself.” the Etherian healer continued. “That makes him your friend. He’s lucky to have you” 

Although his eye remained closed the clone could feel Dawn’s hands on his face again, tilting his head upwards. 

“I’m gonna wash out your wounds now.” She said. “It will hurt but I need you to hold still.”

He braced himself, tensing up despite the pain, but let her work. The apprentice sprayed another cool liquid onto his wounded face, this one was scentless but it still stung the cuts. The disconcerting sensation of liquid running deep into pits in his flesh and along the swollen borders distracted him from everything else. He wondered if there was even an eye in that socket, the clone could not tell. 

The Etherian girl worked meticulously, gently wiping clean the canyon carved through flesh. 

"Someone stitched him up." Dawn said, her low voice steady as she worked, clearing away the sticky mess to reveal the damage done. "It looks like they did a rush job but it's not infected."

The clone could feel Mendus shift as though he were craning around to look. The healer sighed as he saw the clone's face, and the clone felt a twist of nervousness. The clone tried not to react, he kept his head lifted with his eyes closed, obedient and still. 

"This is good work, we might be able to save that eye." Master Mendus hummed, massaging the clone's shoulders again as he thought. "You can see where the tissue pulled away from the bone on his cheek and brow, but you're right, it doesn't look infected. The swelling is from the trauma." 

Dawn said nothing, but began to spread something onto the battered flesh. It felt like a paste and smelled herbal. 

"There were places where the tissue was too pulverized to stitch." The healer continued. The affect of his voice had changed as though he was speaking to the clone as well as his apprentice. The clone did not know how to respond, but leaned back into the Etherian's hands. Sitting up was beginning to make him feel dizzy and drained. 

"We're going to have to do the best we can with that, but it will likely leave an impressive scar." Dawn’s hands left his face, and the clone nodded. Relief was tempered by trepidation.

He was happy to hear that his injury was not infected—although he knew that Horde Prime in his cleverness had created his clones to be resistant to most infections—and that he had not lost his left eye, for the clone truly could not differentiate between the sensations coming from that side of his face. Now that his bandages had been removed it mostly felt like a painful mush. 

But he feared to think of what he must look like now. The confirmation that he would be scarred was not a surprise, but the clone still worried. Disfigurement had meant death under Horde Prime, decommissioning so as not to disturb the perfection of the Horde. Now he would never again match his brothers, his appearance would be aberrant and disgusting to all who saw him.

It did not seem that the Etherians valued perfection as much as Prime had. If they did he would not have survived for as long as he had, but he worried how the disfigurement would effect their treatment of him now. 

He wondered what his brothers would think.

He turned his thoughts to The Breather. Would he be disgusted by him? Would he reject a brother who was so maimed?

"We might need to even out the ear a little," Dawn continued, oblivious to the clone's fears as she continued to tend to his wounds. "It's a little jagged and I think the tissue is starting to lose circulation here." 

She ran a gloved finger over a stinging line about halfway up his ear, and the clone was startled to realize that that line was where his ear stopped. He fought a gag as his stomach turned. Some of his reaction must have shown on his face as Dawn drew away. 

“It shouldn’t really affect your hearing.” Her gentle voice softened further. The clone opened his eye to watch her as she rummaged around on the tray that held an array of tools, jars, and bottles. Eventually she pulled up a few more gauze pads and some tape. 

They were almost finished for now then.

Thank Prime.

The clone allowed himself to drift as she wrapped him back up, bandaging his ear separately so that it was no longer pinned to the side of his head. The bandages around his face were also less bulky, and covered less of the uninjured portions of his face. His right eye peeked out from the bright white cloth, and everything felt a little bit lighter. Less wet, less mushy. 

By the time they'd taped the bandages in place, laid him back against his cot—which had been propped up like The Breather's was—and forced a few sips of water into him from a ceramic cup, the clone was exhausted. 

It was at that point when the clone finally saw Master Mendus. 

The Master Healer of Mystacor was a short, sturdily built creature, with pointed horns on his head, and cloven hooves that peeked unshoed from below the hems of his linen trousers. He wore white robes, had a kind face, and had a large scar across his chin that split his lips diagonally. 

The clone felt his gaze drawn to the healer and his apprentice while they cleaned up and bustled around the tent. All but two cots were occupied and the tent was large, the clone estimated that there were at least thirty people lying injured there. Slightly less than half of them were fellow clones. As he watched more people wearing teal colored robes that matched Dawn’s moved a limp Etherian to a gurney, and rolled him out of the tent.

He looked away. 

The clone focused again on The Breather. Although his brother appeared to be relatively healthy, he had not been awake since the clone had regained consciousness. There was no visible head injury, but the raspy breathing and the bandages around his chest were concerning. Feeling grim, the clone wondered if his new friend was slowly asphyxiating beside him. Dawn and Master Mendus had not seemed concerned but they were busy, and they had been focusing on him. He felt a stab of guilt, he should have asked them to look at The Breather. 

He was fine. 

They were both fine.

He lay back, against the cot and stared at the canvas ceiling. Once again the clone focused on the Breather’s constant wheezing. Bit by bit he put himself back together, breathing in time with his companion as he pushed his fears to some forgotten corner of the back of his head. Some worries had been laid to rest by learning of his condition and by speaking to two of his captors, but more had cropped up in their place, while others still lingered. 

He feared what was to become of them. He feared the sight of his own face. Now he even feared the waking of his companion, the clone did not know how he would react if he was rejected by the one who had been his lifeline. 

But he put those fears away, and held onto the sound of his friend’s breaths, and to his desire to keep them both alive.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thank you for reading this! I’m excited to finally have dialogue and to properly introduce Mendus and Dawn. This is still a story about the clone and The Breather but the two healers were necessary and they’ll continue to help our guys get their bearings 

sooo, what was Dawn doing to his face? 

well

Dawn removed the bandages with saline to keep them from sticking, washed the uninjured parts of the clone's face with rubbing alcohol (except for the eyelid, that's a nono), and then got the rest with saline to avoid further damaging the tissue. She then covered the wounds in an oil based ointment similar to bacitracin (I refuse to believe that Etheria doesn't have antibiotics).

Taking off the bandages allowed her to examine and clean the wound, and for the time being that will be pretty much all they can do. If the wound stays wet for too long the skin will start to degrade and the wounds won't heal, so all that blood and drainage from before was Not Good. 

They're starting simple and probably won't need to get too complicated for the moment. Which is good because I'm trying to imply that resources are tight and they have neither enough medical professionals nor supplies to properly care for every patient. 

basically what I’m saying is that all things considered Chamomile is in good shape, he doesn't need anything fancy yet although I tried to imply that he might need at least one more surgery down the line.

[cherrybracelets]

as the world caves in

masterlist | request

spencer reid x bau agent!reader

song inspo: as the world caves in - matt maltese (i highly recommend listening to this before or during reading to fully understand the fic)

summary: you’ve worked in the bau for almost a year now, but this is your toughest case to date. when the unsub puts you and spencer in a near death situation, the complex feeling of mortality causes you to bear your souls to one another 

word count: 6k | warnings: no smut but it is typical criminal minds violence, plot centers around reader being held hostage by an unsub so there is tying up, reader getting hurt, etc. pls be cautious when reading if that makes you uncomfortable

Your head was pounding, the sound of phones ringing and private chatter ringing through your ears. You shakily poured a cup of coffee, closing your eyes momentarily as you tried to wake yourself up. You glanced at the clock, seeing that it was barely five in the morning. You yawned obnoxiously, assuming no one was around you. But when you heard a quiet snicker from behind, you knew immediately you were not alone. You spun around quickly to see Emily, waving as she set her bag down on her desk. 

“Pretty early to be called in. Must be important,” she concurred, pouring herself a cup of stale FBI coffee as well. 

“Do you ever get used to it?” You groaned, taking a long swig of the cheap coffee. You had doused it with milk and sugar to make it consumable, but it still left a nasty taste in your mouth with each sip. You knew you wouldn’t make it without caffeine, though, so you stomached it down. 

“I’ve been here… five years, now? I can assure you it doesn't get easier,” she laughed. You had missed her laugh, when she was gone. She had become a wonderful mentor to you, and when you thought you lost her, you were shattered. Having her back has been enough to get you through the tough cases, which seemed to be escalating with each one. 

“You know, next week is my one year anniversary with the BAU,” you smiled, excited of your first milestone with the team. The BAU was an exceptionally hard job, and many people didn’t make it as long as you had. It was something to be proud of. 

“You’re kidding! Congratulations, (Y/N).” 

“Thank you!”

You saw Hotch and Derek walk in out of the corner of your eye, deep in conversation. You were sure it was an important one, the look on Hotch’s face confirming your suspicions. They walked straight to the conference room, not even looking up to notice you and Emily. You gave Emily a look, and you were both thinking the same thing. ‘We better get our asses in there.’

You followed Emily into the room, Garcia getting the case ready to present. The rest of the team filtered in over the next few minutes, riddled with dark circles, cups of coffee and worry. There wasn’t much small talk made, everyone too out of it to pretend to talk about what they did last weekend. 

“Good morning everyone, thanks for coming in so early,” Hotch addressed, standing up as he welcomed everyone. “We’ve got a bit of a weird case, today. Garcia, why don’t you go ahead and present.” 

“Okay, my loves. This is a bit of a weird one, so strap in to keep up with me. A 21 year old female, Emily Davies, was abducted yesterday morning from the parking lot in her apartment complex. Now, the lot did have security cameras, but the unsub cut the internet cable and they can’t download the video until the can fix the wire.”’

“He’s smart, probably knew it would slow us down. And shows he has knowledge in wiring and electrics.” Derek added. 

“Exactly. The police believe we should have the footage by the time we land. Now here’s where it gets weird. Two hours after she was abducted, there was a shooting at a gas station about 30 miles outside of the city, off I75. Three dead, including the worker. No cameras there, unfortunately.”

“How do we know it’s the unsub?” You questioned, failing to see the connection between the two crimes. 

“Ah, my darling, if there wasn’t a connection we wouldn’t be called in. Our unsub left a note at this crime scene. It read, ‘They were going to take her. I couldn’t let them take her. She is mine, we are in love. Please, leave us be.’” Garcia then pulled up photos of the crime scene and the note on the monitor. 

“These are clean shots, straight to the head, execution style,” Reid said, studying the photos on the screen. 

“He knows how to use a gun, that’s for sure.” Rossi added.

“The 911 call was made by a customer who walked in to see the carnage about a half hour after the unsub left. They believe he is continuing to drive North, but we currently have no idea what him or his car look like.” 

“If he didn’t kill again, he most likely stopped somewhere. He may be lowing low in a roadside motel to keep us off his trail,” Reid said. 

“The gas station seemed unplanned. The abduction was thorough, leaving no evidence. But this scene is sloppy, and rushed. They must’ve seen Emily and panicked, and he shot em. This was never part of the plan, and now he’s freaking out.”

“That’s a good point, Emily’s face is all over the news now. He’d need a place to rest for a bit until he can come up with the rest of his plan. How exactly did people discover that Emily was missing?” You asked, curious about the rest of the unsubs plan. 

“Well, it was actually kind of a fluke, but very helpful for us. Her boyfriend, Michael Adams, discovered she was gone when he came home early from work. He wasn’t supposed to be home for another six hours, but something had happened and they sent him home. He called 911 when he realized her phone, keys, and bag were all at home but she was nowhere to be found. They aren’t sure exactly what time she went missing, but at that point Michael had only been gone for two hours.”

“This guy had to have been stalking her. He knew to take her on a day she’d be alone for hours, he knew to cut the wires for the security cameras… this was meticulously planned,” Derek responded. 

“Except what he didn’t plan for was the boyfriend getting home early, and Emily’s face plastered everywhere. He thought he’d have more time to get away,” JJ added. 

“If he truly doesn’t want to be separated from her, it’s only a matter of time before he kills again. Anybody that gets in their way will die, if we don’t stop him. Wheels up in thirty.” Hotch instructed, dismissing you all as you separated to prepare for another trip. 

You lingered in the conference room for a moment, staring at the photos on the monitor. An uncomfortable feeling floated through you, chills up your spine as you stared at the crime scene. It was far tamer than most things you’d seen during your time here, but something about it made you uneasy. Spencer had noticed you staying back, and he stayed in the room as well. Once everyone cleared out, he cleared his throat to let you know he was there. You turned to him, not sure if you should tell him how you felt or not. Was it weak to say you were nervous? 

“You okay?” He asked calmly, his eyes avoiding yours as he waited for your answer. 

“I… just have a bad feeling about this case. Does that ever happen to you?”

“Mmm, yes.” He chuckled slightly, running a hand through his hair. “And usually, I’m right.” 

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The plane landed in Cincinnati only a few hours later, cars awaiting to take you to the police station upon arrival. You were grateful to hear that they were able to pull the security footage from the lot Emily was abducted, and it was ready to be viewed when you arrived at the station. 

You got in a car with Derek and Spencer, a duo that you usually tried to avoid. Derek always joked with you and Spencer that the two of you had a crush on each other. Although it was slightly true on your part, and your heart did race every time Spencer walked into a room, it was embarrassing to see Spencer so confidently deny any feelings for you. 

But, Hotch sent the three of you to the station, instructing you to study the security tapes. The rest of them were going to talk to the boyfriend and visit the crime scene. You sat awkwardly in the back seat, trying to keep quiet, not wanting to say anything that would entice Derek. 

“Judging by the way he worded this note, our unsub is most definitely in love with Emily. Do you think she knew him?” Spencer turned to you, and then to Derek, waiting for someone to respond. 

“It’s impossible to say. There was no sign of forced entry in the apartment.” Derek responded.

“They think she was taking her trash out when she was abducted. Explains why she left all of her things inside, and the door was unlocked,” you added, wanting to be a part of the conversation. Although it had been almost a year, you still felt like you had to constantly prove yourself when you were with them. 

“Even if she knew him, you wouldn’t get in someone's car without your phone, or wallet. He had to have had a weapon,” Derek said. 

“The gun he used to kill everyone in the gas station, probably,” Spencer muttered. You all stayed silent for the rest of the drive, your brain taking a quiet moment to think through the details of the case. 

The police station wasn’t too far from the airport, and you got there pretty quickly. You always felt so small in the police stations, usually dealing with male detectives or sheriffs or cops. You felt like you’d drown in testosterone, and everyone would be so busy in a dick measuring contest that they couldn’t save you. As you walked into the station, you were greeted by yet again another male detective who reeked of desperation and Viagra. 

“Hi, I’m Detective Elijah Guthrie. Thank you so much for coming.” He shook all of your hands, welcoming you into his station. 

“Where do you have the security tapes set up?” Reid asked quickly, realizing the urgency of this case, and that we didn't have time for small talk. 

“Conference room. Everything you said you needed is set up there, as well.” 

“Awesome, we should go get started, then,” Derek smiled, leading the three of you into the room. 

You all sat down and watched the tapes, replaying them over and over to catch every detail that you could. Luckily, the unsub cut the wires after he took the girl. It seemed sloppy, on his end. He had to know eventually that we’d get the footage. But he was smart enough to make sure his face was nowhere in view. Although, his car was still in view, and you were able to pull a plate number. 

“Garcia, baby girl, can you hear me?” 

“Loud and clear. What can I do for you, my sweets?” 

“Run a plate for us. Ohio plates, number EUE 8561.” 

“Of course, give me uno momento....” You could hear the sound of Garcia typing away, finding the mysterious man. In all honesty, you weren’t sure if any of these cases would get solved without her. 

“Alright, I got your man. 24 year old Jacob Lane.” “Are we sure our unsub didn’t just steal this guy’s car?” 

“Good point, Garcia check to see if Jacob has any connection to Emily.” 

“Gotcha… oh, man. Looks like he grew up in the same town that she did.” 

“Well, that’s suspicious,” Derek responded, raising his eyebrows. “Alright, thanks baby. Try and dig up some more on this guy.” He hung up the phone, staring at the paused video in front of him. 

“(Y/N), you call Hotch and give him the update. There’s a good chance this guy’s our unsub. Reid, call JJ and have her ask the boyfriend if they knew this guy.” You and Reid both looked at each other and nodded, standing up and walking into the hallway to complete your tasks. You dialed Hotch’s number swiftly, listening to the ringing as you awaited him to answer. 

“Hotchner,” he answered, sternly. 

“Hey, it’s me. I think we got our guy- Jacob Lane. The car that Emily got into was registered to him, and he grew up in the same town as her. Garcia is digging up some more info, and Reid is on the phone with JJ, gonna see what we can get from the boyfriend.” 

“Alright, well we’ve just been informed there was another shooting. This time at a motel not too far from the gas station. We’re gonna head there, now.” 

“How many, this time?” You asked, dreading the answer. 

“Six. Doesn’t look like anybody made it out.” 

You stayed silent, your head spinning as you thought of six more dead bodies, six more grieving families. 

“Thanks, Hotch.” You hung up your phone, walking back towards Reid and Derek. 

“Detective Guthrie just told me there’s been another shooting,” Derek said to you, unaware if you had been informed. 

“Yeah, Hotch just told me. We have to get this guy before he does this again.” 

“Unfortunately, most cases with spree killers like this end in hostage situations, and eventually suicide by cop. Spree killers' motivations are usually very similar.” Reid stated, his voice emotionless as he rattled off his facts. He was obviously right, and you felt sick as you thought of standing face to face with this man, 

“I’m gonna go talk to Emily’s parents, see if they knew anything about Jacob. You guys stay in here and go over everything we have so far, see if we missed anything.” 

“Alright. Thanks, Derek.” 

He left the room quietly, walking out to find the family. You started looking over the video again, straining your eyes to see if you could make out any overlooked details. But it was the same every time, there was nothing new to report. You were angry, not feeling any closer to catching this guy. 

“What do you make of this?” You asked Spencer, hoping his genius brain would come up with an explanation yours couldn’t. 

“He loves a girl, tries to take her away with him, gets caught and panics, starts killing anybody that calls him out. It’s pretty straight forward. Although, the way he’s killing them is unique. The actual crime seems rushed and panicked, but the killings themselves and calm and exact. One shot, the same place. It’s too… perfect.” 

“He’s killed before,” you concluded, feeling your heart racing as you thought of more victims at the hand of Jacob. 

“Yes, but most likely in the military. These are execution style deaths. This M.O. is very specific to military personnel.” 

“And you would be correct, boy genius,” Garcia shouted through the speaker on the desk, her voice scaring you slightly. “Jacob Lane was in the Air Force. He was deployed once to Iraq, he got back about six months and was recently relocated to Cincinnati.” 

“So something must’ve happened between Emily and Jacob in the past, and when he moved back and saw her again, it must’ve been the trigger. Topped with PTSD, he could’ve easily snapped.” 

“What exactly did he do in Iraq?” 

“Ah, that is classified information, according to the US government. But no worries, nothing is too classified for me. Our buddy Jacob executed war criminals during his time overseas.” 

“Well, that explains the M.O.,” you chuckled, running a hand through your hair, shaking your head in disgust. 

“Other than that, he had a relatively normal life. Average in school, normal family. He bounced around colleges a bit before deciding to enlist, but there’s no red flags.” 

“Could you find any other link between him and Emily?”  

“Well, that’s the other thing. Jacob deleted all of his social media accounts when he got back from Iraq. Twitter, Instagram… everything, gone. But, just because he deleted it does not mean the record doesn’t exist somewhere. I am currently trying to unlock all of his accounts and see if I can find anything, but it’ll take a bit.” 

“Alright, Garcia, call us if you get anything. Thank you,” you replied, disconnecting the call. Spencer had stepped away for a moment, answering his phone. 

“If this guy had a perfectly normal life, why is he doing this?” You asked, your nails digging into your palms in frustration. 

“The military… doing what he did… it could mess a lot of normal people up. Plus, there may be more to the story than we know.” 

“Yeah, there is. Listen to this,” Spencer said, walking into the room and putting his phone on speaker. 

“Hey, it’s me,” JJ said, her voice flowing softly through the phone. “So we talked to the boyfriend, and there is a long history between Emily and Jacob. They met when she was 18, and they were both dating different people. They had apparently had an affair of sorts, though, leading Jacob to break up with his girlfriend for her. But apparently Emily decided to stay with her boyfriend and ditch Jacob. That’s when he joined the military. Before he left for training camp, Emily’s boyfriend committed suicide. Blamed Emily and Jacob for ruining his life.” 

“Jesus…” you muttered under her breath. 

“Well, it gets more interesting. Emily picked up and moved to Florida, after that, transferring to a college down there. She was apparently trying to start over. Her and Jacob didn’t talk for two years, but he was relocated to the same town she was in, and they met up again. They started dating, and that’s when he got deployed. About a month after he left, Emily claimed he started acting really weird, to the point where it was scaring her. She broke up with him and blocked him on all social media.” 

“The boyfriend knew all of this?” 

“She told him because apparently she was afraid of Jacob. She told her boyfriend that if something ever happened to her, she was sure it was Jacob.” 

“Why wouldn’t he have mentioned something sooner?” 

“He didn’t think it was a big deal. Plus, until two weeks ago, he was living in Florida.” 

“Exactly. And he got moved here, found out Emily was here and had a boyfriend, and that was probably the trigger.”

“What I don’t understand is how Emily just… dropped him? She was clearly terrified of him, what could he have possibly done to give her that reaction?”

“He could have told her what he was doing down there. That job is not for someone with a soft heart. She probably couldn’t stomach the thought of being with a man who…” You couldn’t finish your sentence, your mouth choking up your words as they tried to come up. 

“We need to make a statement to the press. The public needs to know who to look for.” 

“I’ll call the media and put together a press conference. I’ll see you guys soon.” JJ hung up, and Spencer put his phone away. The three of you stayed silent for a moment, staring at each other in awe as your minds wrapped around the information. Part of you felt bad for him. He joined the military to get away, and they stuck him in a job that ruined his humanity. And the girl you love turns away from you when you need her most… 

“The hardest part of the job is not to feel bad for the unsubs,” you laughed, your mouth dry and your forehead sweating as you felt more and more anxious about the future of this case. 

“It’s refreshing, actually. To see someone else with enough empathy to feel for someone who has done so many bad things. It’s a sign of a beautiful heart,” Spencer said, his eyes meeting yours as he spoke. You smiled at him, redness creeping up your cheeks as you felt your nerves tingling at his words. 

“Oh, I’m sure Spencer thinks about your beautiful heart all the time, (Y/N),” Derek teased, causing Spencer to blush as well, and quickly dart his eyes away from you. 

“No… c’mon Derek. Why do you have to turn everything into this? Can’t I just be nice to her!” Spencer groaned, pushing Derek slightly on the arm in frustration. 

“We’ve got a problem,” Det. Guthrie yelled, bursting through the door of the conference room and, thankfully, interrupting Derek. 

“What’s wrong?” 

“Emily escaped. She just walked into the police station.” 

“How is that a problem?” 

“Because Jacob just shot up another place. A diner, this time. We just got the call a minute ago. We’re only a few minutes away. He must’ve come back to the city after Emily got away.” 

“(Y/N), you and Reid go to the crime scene. I’m going to stay here and talk to Emily.” 

“Alright, we’ll leave now, call us if you need anything.” 

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The drive was quick, helped greatly by the use of your sirens. You sped quickly to the diner, you and Reid the first to arrive on the scene. The witness who had called it in greeted you with sobs, not having time to console her as the two of you went quickly inside. The scene was similar to the previous ones, eight bodies, all shot directly in the center of the head. You noticed something wrong, pretty quickly. 

“Reid…” you whispered, staring quietly at a table next to you. 

“What’s up?” 

“Do you see that?” You pointed helplessly to a small plate accompanied with an ever smaller cup, stars and smiley faces printed onto it. 

“That’s a kids meal.” 

“There’s not a kid in here, Reid.” You looked at him nervously, your whole body burning as you imagined the child that Jacob took. 

“There’s a note here, (Y/N)...” Reid handed a crumpled napkin with a sloppy note written across it. 

“Is it an address?” 

“It’s definitely the unsubs handwriting. I studied the previous note, there’s no doubt he wrote this.” 

“This address is only a few minutes away…” 

“We need to leave, now. I’ll call Hotch and tell him to send backup.” Reid ran out of the diner and to the car, and you followed behind quickly. Other cops were now pulling in to the crime scene, and you let them know you were leaving but to stay with the bodies and take care of calling the families. You still weren’t sure who in there had a kid, and you wanted to notify the rest of the family if you could. 

You and Spencer called Hotch in the car, letting him know where you were headed. He told you him and Rossi would be there in twenty minutes or so. Spencer was swerving in and out of traffic, trying to get to the location the unsub left for you. When you finally arrived, you were surprised to find a secluded barn near a small patch of land. You pulled up and got out of the car, arming yourselves as you got near the building. 

“We should wait for backup, Reid… this could be a trap…” you said with caution, a wave of nerves flooding you as you stood in front of the building. 

“He could have a little kid in there, (Y/L/N)... we have to go in.” 

“Spencer, you know that’s not the right protocol.” 

“When has protocol ever done us any good?” 

Spencer starting walking towards the door, and you couldn’t bear to see him go in alone. You followed reluctantly, walking through the open door. As soon as you walked through the doors, you saw him. The face in the photos was finally right in front of you, holding a small item in his hands. You couldn’t make out what it was, you were too focused on the boy, who was tied to a chair next to him. 

“Hello, agents. Thank you for joining me,” Jacob said, smiling devilishly at the two of you. 

“You need to let the boy go, Jacob,” you instructed, your voice remain quiet and calm and your mind spun in circles. 

“That’s not how this is going to go. Do you know what this is?” He waved the device in his hands, smiling down proudly at it. You knew then exactly what he was holding in his hands. 

“It’s a bomb…” 

“Exactly. And if I don’t get exactly what I want, it’s going to detonate. Are we clear?” He looked at you specifically, as if he was nervous you would be the one to try and defy him. 

“Yes,” Spencer answered for you, looking upset as he realized you were right. This was a trap, one that the two of you walked so easily into. 

“Put your weapons down, first,” he instructed, pointing at your guns. The two of you placed them down on the ground slowly, avoiding eye contact with him. 

“Wonderful. Now, I want you to call your boss and tell him I would like to speak with him.” 

You nodded in agreeal, slowly pulling out your phone. You dialed Hotch’s number, your hands shaking as you pressed the buttons. Your heart felt as if it was going to explode, bringing the phone to your ear as you listened to it ring. 

“We’re almost there, what’s going on?” His voice made you feel safe, calm, knowing he would get you out of there safely. He had to get you out. You couldn’t die… not here… not now. 

“Hotch, we’re here with Jacob, and he’d like to talk to you,” you said shakily, your voice trembling as you got the words out. 

“(Y/N)? What’s going on?” 

You handed Jacob the phone, which he ripped out of your hand and placed to his own ear. 

“Listen carefully. I want her back. I want a plane out of here for both of us, or I blow the kid and your two agents up? Is that understood?” You strained hard to see if you could hear Hotch’s voice, but you couldn’t make anything out. You looked over to Spencer, who was staring helplessly at the ground. 

You didn’t bother listening to the rest of Jacob’s conversation with Hotch, not wanting to hear his voice anymore. It was you sick to think about him. When he finally finished, he threw the phone back at you. He walked up to you, grabbing a handful of your hair and pulling your face back to look at him. 

“It would be a shame to kill you… You’re so beautiful.” He whispered, smiling down at you. He pulled hard on your hair, knocking you to the ground with all of his force. You slammed onto the dirt hard, feeling your body jolt as you landed. You felt pain shoot through your body, screaming loudly. 

“Don’t touch her again!” Spencer yelled, running towards him violently. Jacob pulled a gun and pointed it at his head, which made him stop in his tracks. 

“Don’t take another step. Since you want to be her knight in shining armor so bad, why don’t you go ahead and tie her up,” Jacob instructed, pointing the gun at a pile of rope in the corner. Spencer walked slowly over to it, grabbing the rope and tying your hands behind your back. As he tightened the knot, he whispered to you quietly. 

“I’m sorry,” he said, the words bouncing back and forth in your head as Jacob pushed you to the ground and continued to tie up Spencer. After he finished, he sat Spencer next to you. He had put the two of you in the corner, out of sight and mind. You were aggravating Jacob, you could tell. If he could just tie you up and place you in the corner, he wouldn’t have anything to throw him off. 

“Are you okay?” Spencer whispered, looking concerned at your now bruising body. 

“A little sore, but I’ll be fine. What are we gonna do here, Spence?” 

“The team will get us out, okay. I promise.” 

You watched Jacob on the other side of the room, pacing slowly as he awaited another call that would give him his demands. You started to hear the sound of sirens pull up, feeling slightly relieved knowing they were right outside those walls. The sound of helicopters overhead was prominent, and you noticed Jacob wincing as it got louder. 

“Does the sound of helicopters bother you?” You shouted to him, trying to get his attention away from the boy. 

“Shut up! Do I need to tape your mouth shut, too?” He was aggravated, waving his gun around and placing a hand on his head. 

“My dad was in the Army… helicopters reminded him of his time overseas. He’d have a panic attack every time he heard one…” You said, trying to relate to him. If you couldn’t use force to bring him down, maybe you could sympathize with him. 

“It’s just so loud…” he winced, closing his eyes as if all of his senses were betraying him. 

“Let me talk to my boss, if he knew how much they hurt you I bet he’d call them off…” 

Jacob considered your proposal for a moment, the idea of the pain going away calling to him. But he was smart, and realized quickly what was going on. 

“Are you trying to trick me? Do you think you can outsmart me? I have been ahead of you this entire time.” 

“Except you didn’t plan on Emily’s boyfriend coming home early, and you didn’t plan on her escaping, did you? None of this was a part of the plan.” Spencer looked at him desperately, and you wanted nothing more than to curl up next to him and feel him holding you. If you were to die here, today, it would be nice to die in the arms of someone you cared about. You desperately craved his touch, especially now. Who knows if this would be your last chance to experience him? 

“All I want is for me and Emily to be together, okay? Don’t you get that? Have you ever been in love?” 

“I have… and I know how much you love Emily. But if you kill us, you’ll be killing yourself, too. And then Emily will never get to hear how you really feel. Because that’s what all of this is about, right? You just want her to know how you feel?” 

“I told her everything. I bore everything to her and she walked away. It… hurt.” Jacob was crying, tears crawling down his face as he shook the gun in his hand. 

“I don’t want to die without telling the girl I love how I feel. I know you don’t, either, Jacob. We can all walk out of here and you can see her again.” Spencer looked at you, his eyes pleading for your attention as he spoke.

“I don’t want to get locked up, I can’t live like that…” Jacob continued to cry, and you desperately wanted to give him a hug. He was evil, and you despised him, but he was broken and alone and needed a hug.

“No, no. I am not letting you talk me into this… you both shut up and leave me alone!” He yelled, running away from you and back to the young boy. You let out a long sigh, feeling your own tears starting to form. You really thought you might’ve had him this time. But he was too smart, and he wouldn’t fall for any of your tricks. 

“I’m so sorry, (Y/N). I should be able to save you, and I can’t…” Spencer was pale, his forehead sweating as he leaned against the wall. 

“Spencer, don’t apologize. It is nobody's job to take care of me, except myself.”

“I don’t want to die in here without telling you how I feel, (Y/N).” 

“What are you talking about, Spence?” 

“I am crazy about you. I have been in love with you for months. And every time I think I might want to say something, Derek makes some stupid joke and you get awkward and I realize if I say anything I’d risk our friendship but I’m sorry, I can’t die here with you and not tell you I’m in love with you.” 

“Spencer…” was the only thing you managed to get out. You opened your mouth to try to say more, but the sound of your cell phone ringing stopped you. Jacob ran quickly to the phone, picking it up and placing it on speaker. He looked at you to make sure you were listening. He wanted you to know your entire lives depended on whatever happened on this one phone call. 

“Jacob?” A small female voice came on the line, one that you had not recognized. “Jacob, it’s me, it’s Emily.” 

“Emily!” He cried, placing a hand over his heart as he heard her voice. 

“Jacob, I am right outside for you. I promise we can walk away together if you just leave your weapons inside and come out.” You could hear the pain in her voice and she said those words, knowing how hard it must’ve been for her to do this. But she was the only thing that could end this, that could save four lives. She didn’t have a choice. 

“How do I know you’re telling the truth? You ran away from me, Emily!” Jacob cried into the phone, his voice shaky and his face swollen from tears. 

“I have always loved you, Jacob. I have told you everything. You have to believe me. I’m right on the other side of the door. Put down the weapons and show them you’re unarmed, and we can walk away together.” 

You watched him closely, patiently waiting for his response. You had never been a religious person, but you prayed to whoever was listening that you could walk away from this. 

“Spencer… if we don’t make it out, I want you to know I love you, too. And if we do get out of here, please take me far away from here,” you cried, leaning your head on his shoulder and begging the universe for your life. He kissed the top your head, a small comfort that calmed you down. You watched Jacob slowly look over at the two of you, staying as close as you could, savoring love even in the last moments of your life. 

You think it was that moment, him seeing two people in love and remembering what it felt like, that caused him to walk out. He slowly set the gun down, and another small device that you believed was the detonator. He walked through the doors, the sound of a bullet crunching through the air immediately as he stepped outside. You heard the screams of a girl, who was probably dealing with love and loss and pain all in one second, watching the man she loved and feared dying in front of her own eyes. 

SWAT and the Bomb Squad came in shortly after, JJ and Derek running in to find the two of you. Emily and Rossi took care of the child as the other two untied you. They walked you outside, JJ pulling you far from Spencer and into an ambulance. 

“JJ, I promise I’m fine, but I really need to go see Spencer…” You tried to stand up and walk past her, but you were a little dizzy and she pushed you back down pretty quickly. You saw Spencer arguing with Derek as well, probably for the same reason you were trying to push through JJ. 

“Can I take your blood pressure, Agent?” The paramedic said, holding up an arm band and trying to wrap it around you. You angrily refused, finally getting on your feet and walking away from JJ. She realized it wasn’t worth chasing you down, that you would get checked out when you were good and ready. 

You ran towards Spencer, who was still being blocked by Derek. You pushed passed cops and paramedics and everything in between, your eyes only on the man you loved. The man who loved you. When you finally got to him, he wrapped his arms around you in relief. He held you for a moment, before letting go and kissing you. It was a kiss full of life, celebrating existence and love. 

“Hah, friendly my ass…” Derek whispered, rolling his eyes as he walked away from the two of you. 

“Take me away from here, Spencer Reid.” 

“Wherever you wanna go.”

[the-silentium]

Murphy day Pt. 4

Masterlist - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 -  Epilogue

Pairing: Bad Batch x Reader

Words: 3480 words.

Warnings: Medical stuff without much detail. 

A/N: YAY last chapter of this series! This was a lot of fun! Hope you guys stay tuned for more Bad Batch fics! Don’t forget to leave comments, always much appreciated!

Fors is an Original planet. I do not give permission to people to use it for their own fics, the planet, the animals, the Nightmares, the lore or anything related to Fors. Thank you.

At first, you felt numb. It felt like your mind was wandering around, completely separated from your body. Where you should be feeling your hands and feet, there was only nothingness, a way too cold nothingness. 

Then the soreness poked at the corner of your brain, slowly assaulting your nerves, crawling up your body until all you could feel was a mass of terribly aching limbs. A constant discomfort deep within your throat prompted you to cough it out to relieve yourself of the nagging feeling, the weak attempts miserably failing to alleviate the sensation of something invading your throat. 

As you tried to raise a hand to rub at your neck, you realized that something was keeping it down. Something warm. And tight. 

Like Tech's hand when he was pulling you away from the predator on your tail. Or when he was dangling in the air on the verge of death, the only thing keeping him from disappearing into the abyss being your fingers clutching his hand. 

Fear flooded your system, fighting the exhaustion paralyzing your limbs. Your hand closed around the warm soft object in your grip, your hold tightening despite the pain radiating from your fingers. You couldn't let go. He would die. Your friend would die. 

You didn't hear the yelp over the frenetic heartbeat booming in your ears, your closed eyes projecting you directly to that day when the dark sky offered the perfect camouflage to the draconic reptile. He was concealed in the dark, waiting for you to drop your guard. No. He was waiting for you to drop Tech so he could feast on his flesh. 

Your eyes flew open in terror as the hand in yours slipped slightly, your fist crushing it with all your might to keep it secure. 

The unexpected brightness brings tears to your eyes, the first droplets falling down your cheeks before a familiar figure invaded your personal space, his other hand flying to your shoulder in a comforting grip. 

His lips were moving, trying to tell you something that you couldn't hear over the hammering of your heart or your quick breathing or the hectic beeping sound on your left. 

Lifting your head a little, pain exploded behind your eyes, forcing your head back down immediately. Your eyes moved to your hand, still imprisoning another's in its vice grip. The sight made you relax slightly. You'd not dropped him. 

Before your attention could return to the person hovering above you, his hand on your shoulder retreated as someone else took his place from your other side, a total stranger that looked oddly familiar in some way. He moved quickly around you, talking to you while putting something terribly cold onto your chest multiple times before removing something taped to your face and removing the thing down your throat. 

You coughed as you felt the thing move out, more tears leaking down your face at the effort. 

"You're okay Y/N." You finally heard, your mind concentrating on what was around instead of yourself. "You're okay." He repeated in case you still didn't hear him, his other hand returning to your shoulder. 

His dark locks seemed even wilder than they were in the jungle, although they weren't slick with sweat and rain anymore. His armor was off, leaving him in a black skin fitted suit that allowed you to appreciate just perfectly fit he was beneath all that composite. His tattoo was still intriguing, but his eyes reminded you too much of someone else to let yourself wander about how soft the ink would feel beneath your fingertips. 

"T-" You coughed at the roughness of your throat, increasing the pulsing feeling into your skull. 

"Don't talk yet." Hunter chided, getting closer as the other man moved around, checking machines and bags disposed all around you. Where was water when you needed it?

"Tech's fine. All he got was a bruised hand." His gaze moved to your joined hands on the bed. "No wonder. You've got a hell of a grip." 

Your eyes widen in realization that you were still clutching him in a terribly tight grasp, pain erupting from your white fingers as soon as you relaxed the tension. 

He shook his hand once before massaging his digits to resume the blood flow. He turned to you, all traces of pain washed off his face, relief, and exhaustion taking its place. 

"You scared us all to death, you know that?" 

You frowned, unsure as to why. 

"Tech said that the fall should have been fatal." It clicked in your head, your fall replaying back in your head, the air hitting you full force, your stomach on the verge of your lips, the screams resonating in your ears. 

"Somehow, you survived the fall and we took you to the closest GAR medical outpost." 

You frowned, looking around to the room but were interrupted by a light flashing directly into your eyes. You blinked, surprised but tried to maintain them open for the apparent exam. 

"Follow the light." The doctor softly instructed, obliging as he moved the light from right to left. He nodded in approval. "Does it hurt somewhere?"

You nodded slowly, a finger pointing at your head the best you could with your stiff joints. 

"Your head?" You nodded in confirmation. 

"Your pilot will be monitored closely for a while. As of now, her vitals are good and I'll give her something for the pain." He addressed Hunter, the latter nodding in understanding. Your head tilted to the side, your eyebrows dipped in a frown. Pilot? "Keep her rested, no moving around like the other one." He finished on a disapproving tone and pointed look, pressed some buttons on a machine right beside you, and left the room when Hunter promised to keep you in bed. 

"We had to pass you as our pilot so you could be treated here, so play the game." He whispered when the doctor exited the room and turned to meet your confused face.

Your eyes widened, quickly shaking your head because you don't know shit about ships! What if someone asked you about stuff GAR related? Hissing, you abruptly stopped, your head spinning and hurting. 

"Stop that. You may have survived but you had a severe concussion, some internal injuries, broke an arm, a few ribs, and have lots and lots of bruises." His eyes roamed your face, analyzing the different colors painting your skin, although you couldn't care less because your eyes caught the cast enveloping your right arm. 

You were fucked. You'd never be able to go home and act like you didn't go out on Murphy day. You'll get punished, your life will become more miserable, people will avoid you even more than they already did. Maybe they'll quick you out of the village! 

Your face must have shown your panic or maybe it was the fact that the beeping sound accelerated along with your heartbeat, but Hunter got closer, his hand reaching for your shoulder once more. 

"What's wrong?" 

"T-" You coughed before clearing your throat. Your mouth felt like it was full of sand, but you had to get it out. "They'll know-" You winced. "-I was out." 

"Well. I'm sure they know by now." He looked sheepish, scratching the back of his head like that, almost uncomfortable to tell you some precious information. "You've been out for a bit less than a month." 

"A month?!" You choked, eyes widening in shock. This couldn't be possible. He must have hit his head too.

"You're awake!" The door to your room opened swiftly, letting inside the rest of the batch, all without armor. Tech hurried to your side first, taking your bruised hand in his and staring at you like he couldn't believe it. 

"I am." You answered in a daze, still distracted by the fact that you missed a month. 

"You should be dead." He whispered in awe. 

"Jeez, thanks for the vote of confidence." You coughed as Hunter called his brother, horrified. 

"No, I mean… I'm happy that you're alive! All I'm saying is that you had a 50% chance to die from a 48 feet high fall. But headfirst?! Your chances were close to none!"

You gulped. "Cool?" 

"He should be thanking you instead of telling you all that." Hunter pointed out, a hard look on his face directly focussed on his little brother. 

"Thanks," Said brother whispered, his free hand scratching his neck in shame. "for saving my life. Twice." 

"No thanks needed. You'd have done the same." You moved your hand so you could give him a comforting squeeze. 

"Sarge told you you'd survive the day Y/N!" Wrecker approached from Hunter's side, happiness lacing his voice. 

"And I told you guys would give me your bad lu-" Your smile disappeared as soon as you took in the bandages covering his naked chest. Some patches of exposed skin were tainted from a sick yellow to some dark green, worrying you to no end. 

"What happened to you?" You croaked, coughing when your voice raised in pitch. 

"There." You heard Crosshair’s low voice before a cup appeared in front of you. 

"I don't think she shoul-" 

"I want it!" You hurried out of breath, cutting Tech before anyone could think about following his instructions. 

Taking the cup from Crosshair's hand, Hunter approached it to your hand not attached to a cast. 

"Good to do it yourself?" 

"I'll try." You shrugged, fighting past the exhaustion in your bone to lift your hand to the white carton cup, only for it to burn up all your energy. "Shit."

The good point was that whatever the doctor gave you was working perfectly, the throbbing in your head was gone and the pulsing in your hand as well. 

"Here." The cup reached your lips and very slowly, Hunter tilted it to appease your thirst without drowning you in the process. You would have been mortified at the idea of being helped like this, but in this very precise situation, all you could think of was drink. 

Lie. This is not sweet! Bacterias! You almost spit it out by reflex but remembered at the last second that they surely wouldn't give you undrinkable water. It was difficult, but you forced yourself to swallow. 

Once satisfied, you lifted your head to signal to Hunter to back off. You hummed your thanks, smiling gratefully and totally ignoring the smirk Crosshair send his tattooed brother, focussing your attention on Wrecker instead. 

"What happened?" You repeated yourself. 

"The giant snake hit me with its tail." He shrugged like it was nothing. "I'm fine, don't worry. I've survived worse!" 

You stared him up and down, wondering how in the universe he could have survived that. Its tail was rock hard to allow it to move underground. There was no way- 

"What could be worse than a Basilisk wanting you for dinner?!" 

"That'll be a story for another time." A woman said from the door. "Now that you are awake we need to run some more exams." She smiled warmly at you, and you immediately knew that you liked her. "You can all come back later."

"Aw already?" You chuckled slightly at Wrecker's disappointment. 

"Unfortunately. But I promise to take good care of her for you all." She replied, entering the room to get to the machines at your side. 

"We'll be back." Hunter promised before bending to your ear, whispering cheekily, "You're a hell of a catch. Never think otherwise." Leaving you agape to follow the others out without a glance back. He didn't need to, the heart monitor told him all he needed to know. You were mortified. He had heard you by the river.

Crosshair saluted you in the doorway, Tech patted your hand, Wrecker waved and Hunter smirked before closing the door. 

"I've never seen them so worried about someone else other than the four of them. It's nice to see them opening to someone else." She smiled, noting information on her datapad. 

If only you knew… I know them for only 2 hours top.

________________________

You gulped down the last bit of your small breakfast, the tasteless bread leaving a soggy feeling in your mouth. 

You'd slept like a baby after Mylana finished to examine your cast, reflexes, and more. Your strength returned during the night, allowing you to lift your cast-free left arm to feed yourself. 

Patch, the clone doctor assigned to your case passed to assess your improvement and informed you that he'd remove the nasogastric tube so you could eat by yourself. Removing the thing was nasty, definitely something you didn't want to live again but it was worth it. Or so you thought. Because the food here was depressing compared to Fors’ vast variety of fresh fruits, meat, and vegetables. 

It was only when Patch presented himself that you realized how different the Bad Batch was from the rest of the clones. He was the very first 'normal' clone you encountered. It pushed you to think about how the batchers must have had it hard, to live in a world where everything must be identical and you're not. They had no chance to conceal it, to be themselves like all the others because they were physically different. They had no chance to try and save themselves. It was infuriating and unfair. 

"How's breakfast?" Tech asked from the door, moving uncomfortably from a foot to the other. 

"Not what I'm used to but it’s edible." You shrugged, waving him in. "Don't be a stranger, I'm your pilot after all."

Tech chuckled at that, closed the door to sit at the foot of the bed. For a while he sat there, watching his fingers, sometimes pressing them together but never facing you. 

"You don't have to apologize for anything Tech. I don't know what's bugging you, but it's fine. I'm alive." You told him honestly, surprising him. 

"I-What I said yesterday was inappropriate and I'm very sorry. It's just- I watched the recording times and times again and- Why did you let go of my hand?" He finally met your eyes offering you disbelief, confusion, sadness, and betrayal on a golden plate.

"I told you there was nothing to apologize for. I let go of your hand because I didn't want to drag you down with me." You lifted your hand when he opened his mouth to interrupt you, effectively shutting him up. "I'd do it again. Don't beat yourself over it, because it's not your fault Tech." You ended firmly, no trace of your previous amusement on your face. 

He analyzed your face for a second before averting his eyes. 

"How's your hand?" You asked, eager to fill the silence. 

"Still bruised." The corner of his lips lifted slightly as he showed you his colorful hand. "I couldn't close it at first, but it passed." He chuckled. "Oh, and I had to wash my armor at least 3 times to get rid of the phosphorescence." 

You laughed full-on before pain shot through your chest at the movement. 

"Don't make me laugh!" 

"Slept well then." Hunter entered followed by Crosshair and Wrecker with a black shirt on this time. 

"Best night of sleep I had in a while Sarge." You beamed. It was true, the life in the village was hard enough. Not because of your work, but because the incessant persecution was heavy to bear. 

"Good to hear. We came back after the exam but you were asleep." He positioned himself at the foot of the bed, letting Wrecker all the place to sit in the chair at your side. 

"Thanks for letting me sleep then!" 

"Even if we wanted to wake you, Patch would've had our asses before we even opened the door!" Wrecker laughed, stopping his poking of the fluid bag hanging near his shoulder to smile at you. 

"He just wants me to be discharged sooner than later." You batted his hand away as he resumed his movement. 

"Speaking of discharge, we'll take you back to Fors as soon as you're cleared." The playful smile fell of your face in a heartbeat. 

"Oh. Ok. Thanks." 

"What's the matter?" Crosshair approached at Hunter's question, clearly wanting to know the answer. 

"Nothing. Can't wait to go back." You faked a smile that didn’t reach your eyes, not fooling a single clone in the room.

"What is it?" The sniper inquired, surprising you that he'd care about your feelings and well, you. 

"It's just… I'm done. People know that I went out on Murphy day and they certainly think me dead right now." You explained.

"Well, they'll be happy to see that you're not." Tech tilted his head, not understanding where the problem was. 

"No one misses the village's freak. Ever. They won't throw a celebration because I'm alive, they'll kick me out for breaking the law, and because I'll attract them bad luck." 

Silence fell over the room and suddenly you felt an urge to pull on the needles in your arms and hand and run out the door to avoid the conversation and all the shame accompanying it. 

"You're not a freak." You scoffed at Wrecker, all the insults thrown at you during your life echoing in your head like a curse. 

"Wanting more than just living the life that was imposed on me at birth doesn't fit under the norms on Fors. A female having weapons is not acceptable, even less a female hunting. Working a physical job instead of stayin' at home is not exemplary. Plus, I'm still single! I told off the guy who asked for my hand after my dad died and went as far as menacing him with a knife. After that, I was pretty much a goner." You recalled painfully, hands clenching around the sheets, eyes closing in shame.

"I'm always being stared at like a freak show, pushed around by my supposed peers, thrown in the mud when possible, or let behind in a storm. Oh let's not forget that I went out on Murphy day. Now, that's the dumbest shit I've ever done but damn did it felt good to break their stupid law! I'm sure I'll be exiled at best or executed at worse." 

You finally took a deep breath in, canalizing your frustration to not take it out on the medical equipment helping you get better. The silence was heavier than before and you thought that maybe the drip Patch showed you for the episodes of pain could help you relieve some of the pressure crushing you. 

"Your planet is hell." Was all Crosshair had to say for you to smile again. 

"It is." You confirmed, eyes still closed. 

"We need a pilot." That got you to open your eyes, confused at Hunter. 

"So? I'm not a pilot. My planet doesn't even have datapads." 

"We'll train you." Tech and Wrecker were as surprised as you were, although your big friend was the most enthusiast out of the group. 

"Really Sarge?" He asked, hopeful. 

"Wo there, calm down. We've known each other for 2 hours!" You reasoned in disbelief. He couldn't possibly offer you a job, an escape route out of your misery, after walking alongside you for 2 hours more or less. "You don't know me!" 

"On the contrary, I've learned plenty in 2 hours." He countered, his serious eyes telling you that he passed his time analyzing your actions, your motives, who you were. 

It was really tempting, but you couldn't help to feel that this was rushed. It was, right?

"Freaks help each other." Crosshair added putting a stop to your doubt. They were the same as you. 

"I told you already Cross." You smirked at him. "You're not defects. Simply the improved versions of your species." You nudged his arm pressed at the foot of the bed that he was leaning on next to Hunter with your sheet covered toes. 

"You seen Patch?" He lifted an eyebrow at you, not believing that after seeing the real deal you still talked highly of them. 

"I did. Really handsome." You paused, to bit your bottom lip. "But that just means that you guys are even more handsome." He scoffed and you laughed, happy to get a smirk out of him. 

"So, wanna become a pilot?" Hunter reiterated, waiting. He seemed so patient, unbothered, but you could see it beneath the surface. He was anxious to know the answer. 

"On one condition." Held your chin high, ignoring how Wrecker's face split into a wide grin and how Tech straightened at your side. 

"Name it."

"I wanna touch that tattoo of yours." You smirked. 

Wrecker exploded in laughter, Tech blinked in incredulity until it dawned on him and his cheeks became pink from the blood rush and Crosshair simply rolled his eyes, pushing himself off the bed. 

"Deal." He smirked in turn, not once moving his eyes from your lips. 

Finally.

[tao-si]

Made this post the other day and now I'm having crossover brainrot

So without further ado, I introduce to you the ultimate pain: a mysmexclannad crossover. (click here for an in depth experience as I got into the headspace I’m currently in re: Ray’s bad AE CG as shown above and its themesong lmao)

The RFA members as Clannad characters

Jumin - Kotomi without a doubt. Maybe not as clueless about cutting pages out of books, and he doesn't have time to be spending his lunch in the library, but Jumin has this otherworldly innocence about him that makes me think of Kotomi. There's also the fact that he's a member of MENSA and how he can calmly make such cold and calculating decisions in a crisis. Jumin is definitely Kotomi.

Zen - Kyou. I had a little trouble with this one, but I think Zen as Kyou fits if you consider his attitude towards Jumin and his treatment of Jaehee. He has a temper about him that's typically brought on by Jumin, but can be otherwise. The crumbs are there, but Zen would be a slightly toned down Kyou. Which brings me to the next member.

Jaehee - I can't decide if Jaehee is Ryou or Tomoyo. On one hand, Jaehee has Ryou's work ethic and dedication. She rarely says no to Jumin's work requests (at least, not in a rude way) and prefers to keep the peace. This would fit in perfectly with Zen as Kyou. On the other hand, Jaehee has a background in judo and at times she can be snappy on the messenger when she's pushed past her limits, like Tomoyo with Sunohara's antics.

Seven - I think Seven could be either Sunohara or Tomoya. I say Tomoya with the fact in mind that he's not as gullible as Sunohara and tends to be more of the prankster and not the pranked. Like that point in the game where Tomoya is given a chance to either go home after hanging out in the dorm with Sunohara or record over his favorite mixed tape with something outrageous - that is a Seven behavior, imo. But in general Sunohara just tends to be a lovable goof, which also fits seven to the tee. My verdict is in, though - Seven is Tomoya.

Yoosung - Fuko. The childish attitude and adoration for an older sister-like figure made this one easy for me. There's also his inability to move on after Rika's death - reminiscent of Fuko's inability to move on and insistence of making the starfish as gifts for her sister's wedding.

Saeran - Nagisa. (I say this despite the fact that I made his brother Tomoya - pay no mind to it) Another Story’s Saeran exhibits a lot of self doubt and anxiety in the form of Ray, which is the number one reason I’ve chosen this one. Nagisa’s weak constitution would also accurately reflect his fragility as a child. Their home backgrounds, unfortunately for Saeran, don't quite match up. But Saeran has this desperation for freedom from his own self doubt, in my mind, that I think Nagisa is struggling with when Tomoya finds her standing outside of the school, hesitant to go in after so long of being sick. When Nagisa stands in the rain waiting for Tomoya to come play basketball with her, I can see Saeran in a similar position. In the same way that the rain scene shows how Nagisa tends to not stand up for herself by continuing to wait even after no one has come, Saeran rarely if ever stands up to anyone who he looks up to (saviour). Nagisa, with her low self-esteem and her irrational fear that she's the cause of other people's problems, embodies Saeran perfectly.

V - Naoyuki Okazaki (Tomoya's father). I don't say this because I dislike V. I really don't. He's a flawed character that has his good points. Much in the same way that Naoyuki betrays his son's trust as his father figure, V betrays seven's trust in him as a parental figure throughout the course of the 8+ years he has separated the twins. Although V isn't physically violent, his passive nature of letting Rika do as she pleases leads to extreme violence against someone he loves deeply. And that betrayal is as big of one as it would be if he were to strike him.

Sorry, Rika. You're not special enough for a character. 😒

[wolf-zer0]

Ya want some WORLD-BUILDING????

Have some world-building!

*REMINDER* This is based on characters, not real people.  I’m not going to be writing any shipping/smut content, especially involving minors.  Please be respectful of content creators’ boundaries!

The Crystallos Empire (AKA the Antarctic Empire)

Largest the countries (takes up most of the southern half of the map) but agreed to stop expansion after a bloody battle with Valeriana 

Centered on a large snowy mountain in the middle of the tundra 

Mostly stays out of other countries’ business, but will step in as a last resort 

Has some of the most well-known citizens in the world because… they’re pure chaos 

Attack at your own peril 

Has vast deposits of ores and gemstones, and the metalwork from Crystallos (mainly weaponry, armor, and jewelry) is highly sought after 

The only known food export is potatoes.  Wonder why… 

Associated Colors: Royal blue, light blue, crimson, gold 

Aesthetic/Vibes: gothic vibes, white stone and large stain glass windows, not particularly opulent or extravagant but still impressively royal looking, think catholic cathedral but brighter and with less Jesus (can you tell I’m a recovering catholic yet?), spires shooting into the sky that’s visible even during a blizzard, cavernous halls full of sunlight and echoes, snow that can comfort and kill in equal measure

Notable Members:

Philza Minecraft:

Angel

Visible wings look like a harpy eagle

Probably the most powerful person in the world

Didn’t mean to start an empire it kinda just happened

Also didn’t mean to adopt kids but his Dadza alarm went off

Usually kind but will not hesitate to use violence when necessary

Technoblade: 

Is pig.  

With braid.  

At least 8 feet all

Extremely adept fighter, skilled in almost every form of combat.  

Not a people pig, prefers his potato farm to being a prince

Hella protective of his family but will not hesitate to bully when given the opportunity

Wilbur Soot: 

Muse who can influence people through song

Can’t totally control people (yet) but can subtly push them in a certain direction

The public face of the imperial family

Would rather insult than fight but can and will cut a bitch if he needs to

Because inspiration is fickle he’ll have some … strange episodes (see: the Sand Incident)

Tommy Innit: 

Child.  

Chaos incarnate.

Is he human?  Is he not?  No one’s sure yet.  

But he’s a gremlin and a hellion and willing to throw down at any moment.  

Has a surprisingly caring side, but no one outside his immediate circle has ever really seen it.  

The Kingdom of Valeriana (aka Dream SMP)

Oldest of the countries 

Located in the middle of a massive forest at the center of the main continent 

Home of the Fae Courts

Ruled by a single king who is chosen by a tournament held every 100 years 

Known for causing chaos in other countries, but after an Incident with Crystallos they have kept their meddling to annoyances rather than outright declarations of war 

Considered the most magical of all the countries, and traditional enchantments almost all come from Valeriana 

Associated Colors: neon green (duh), bright yellow, forest green, light brown, blood red (more saturated than Crystallos), rose gold 

Aesthetic/Vibes: spooky art nouveau (idk what else to call it), lots of plants and nature but with an edge of danger, poison gardens and carnivorous plants, hedge mazes that lead everywhere and nowhere, laughter deep in the forest, deer with eyes just a hair too human, Alice in Wonderland on steroids 

Notable Members: 

Dream: 

Current king of the Fae

As long as he’s touching the ground, he knows where everything and everyone is

Can terraform

Unlimited in the boundaries of his kingdom

Much more limited outside of his realm

No one has ever seen what he really looks like, even before he took the throne

Since people outside the kingdom don’t know who he is, he’ll wander the outside world and challenge random people to fights

Never says what happens to the losers

Only one person has ever beaten him: Technoblade

He might have a lil obsession around Techno, but it’s fine.  

A little competition is healthy.

Sapnap:  

High Lord of the Summer Court

Dream’s right hand man

Likes fire a little too much probably

George: 

Human that Dream took a liking too and yoinked from the mortal world

Dream and Sapnap made him immortal but he hasn’t realized it yet.  

Skeppy: 

Changeling who started growing diamond-like scales across his body

Is vaguely allied with Dream simply because he’s Fae, but is more loyal to BBH

Like a lot of other Fae, likes to make challenges but he makes them less deadly.  Not totally safe, just less deadly.

Badboyhalo: 

Demon who was kicked out of hell because he was too nice

Found Skeppy in the Overworld and the rest is history

Cursed by the Demon King that the moment he says a swear word, the entire world would end, but can never tell anyone that he is cursed

The Merchant’s Guild

Not quite a country, more of a international power 

Oversees the largest and most important businesses in the world 

Makes sure that no laws are broken between different countries and everyone gets a fair shake 

Has a very large reach, so some members have dabbled in espionage for various groups 

From the outside it looks like the whole thing is kept together with duct tape and hope, but its actually pretty functional

The main members are just… a lot. 

More concerned with keeping things working than influencing other nations (although there are still jokes about it) 

The most valuable thing they trade in is information

They have a lot of fingers in a lot of pots, but are trusted with their information 

Associated Colors: dark blue, teal, deep yellow, burnt orange, copper

Aesthetic/Vibes: art deco babie, angles and lines, very modern and streamlined, sleek suits instead of armor or robes, whiskey in a crystal glass, wars won by words not weapons, knowing when someone’s lying without them saying a word

Notable Members:

Schlatt: 

Ram-man with a plan

Not that bad of a dude, but is in a position where he is constantly in possession of highly sensitive information and that does things to someone’s mental state

Drinks pretty regularly but not a full blown alcoholic

Trying his best

Can be a snarky asshole sometimes

Quackity: 

Lucky duck.  literally.  

Duck man with an uncanny ability to absorb good luck from people (typically Fundy) and apply it to himself

No one knows when or why he joined the guild, but now he’s there

Pretty damn smart, but hides it behind humor

Fundy: 

FOX!  

With BEANS!

Trying his goddamn best but life (and Quackity) make it very difficult

Usually is stuck with the shit end of the stick when getting jobs/contracts/etc. 

Wilbur being his dad is an inside joke that’s gotten a life of its own.  

(No Fishfuckers Allowed!!!)

Puffy: 

Badass sheep lady who captains a ship and commands her own armada

Schlatt’s sister

Also part of Storm’s Landing’s council and acts as the main liaison between them 

Do not fuck with her she will kick your ass.

Storm’s Landing

Port city that became a country after becoming a safe-haven for seafarers

Led by a council of important people, with the head of the council known as the Admiral 

Closest ties to Crystallos and the Merchant’s guild because: 

1) Clingy supremacy!!!!

2) it’s a good idea for a guild to have good ties with a large sea power

3) all the dads for Tubbo

Associated Colors: navy blue, scarlet, white, brass 

Aesthetic/Vibes: Nautical (obviously) with heavy “Age of Exploration” vibes, barnacles crusted on treasure chests, think tall ships and pirates and shit, respecting the ocean because holy shit she’s gonna smash your boat to pieces on a whim because she can, has an edge of darkness because when you go deep enough who knows what you’ll find down there (maybe mermaids???) 

Notable Members:

CaptainSparklez: 

elected to Admiral after the previous Admiral went missing on a routine voyage 

(idk who it used to be, I just wanted to make him new at leading)

not 100% sure about the whole thing, but handling it pretty okay

still answers to “Captain” instead of “Admiral”.  

Niki:

If Storm’s Landing had a queen, would be it unquestionably

Never gets robbed even though there’s a well known “underbelly” in town

Could probably end wars with her croissants

Has a significant history of empathic abilities in her family, so she can tell how people are feeling at all times

Eret: 

Owns a magic store in town that really only shows itself to people who need it.  

Having a bad mental health day?  

He’s got a warm blanket and a cup of your favorite warm beverage waiting.  

Dysphoric?  

She’s got the perfect outfit and affirming words already prepared.  

Trying to find that specific book but can’t remember the title or plot, only vaguely know the color of the cover?  

They’ve got it.  

Ranboo:  

Not sure why he decided to move to a seaside city when he’s not chill with water, but now he’s here and he’s too anxious to leave

Known for teleporting around town randomly when nervous, and the people who find him are always willing to let a hand if he gets lost

Tubbo: 

This boi!  Has so many dads!  

Epitome of “Kindness does not equal weakness.”  

While a lot of people underestimate him, he’s not some fragile little flower

He hasn’t fully grown into his ability to speak to animals (he can only understand bees right now)

He’s just as much of a shit stirrer as Tommy.  

When they meet up, look out.  Something’s getting destroyed.

The Astral Academy

An independent university focused on advancing knowledge in the arcane arts and engineering 

Not a country, but has the political power of one due to their vast resources and building prowess 

People can’t enter unless they are invited or have been given entry as a student 

There are a bunch of potential doors scattered around the continent that could lead to the Academy, but no one is sure where the real entrance is 

Associated Colors: royal purple, lilac, sepia, sky blue, silver, bronze Aesthetic/Vibes: bright academia, massive libraries with bookshelves stuffed to bursting, workshop benches covered in scrap and prototypes, open air observatories, runes waiting to be translated, the crackling energy that comes from successful collaboration, falling down a research rabbit hole, bursting with pride after a project is a success

Notable Members: 

Sam

Purpled

Ponk

Punz

Antfrost

Jack Manifold

I don’t know much about these characters, so if you have any ideas please let me know!

Zero’s OC Land - The North Haven

Smallest and newest country 

Recently gained independence from under a cruel dictator (not schlatt lol)

Located in a pine forest at the base of a huge mountain range 

Has pretty good relations with the other countries, but outsiders don’t know much about them 

Main exports are wood carvings and leather goods 

Associated Colors: Maroon, dark brown, black, pewter 

Aesthetic/Vibes: medieval but with a modern twist, dark wood lit by a roaring fireplace, snow-covered woods without a living soul in sight, half timber houses and detailed wood carving, no outrageous ornamentation or extravagance 

Notable Members:

Tyr: 

Lord of the North Haven

trying to keep his people safe and protected

one of the few remaining Spirits (higher in power than the Fae, but lower than angels)

Spirit of Justice

lost a hand in the war for North Haven’s independence

didn’t want to become the leader but does a pretty good job at it

Adopted 5 kids and is trying his best

Bragi: 

Heir Apparent

24 year old human

can influence the world by speaking (not singing) but has to be careful about which words he uses

has a book full of phrases that have proven effects (a spellbook of sorts)

has a friendly rivalry with Wilbur

Freya: 

Spymaster

actually the oldest but abdicated because she feels she’s not the right person to lead a country

age unknown because she’s the last known [REDACTED] (it’ll be revealed, but I wanna build suspense)

has gyrfalcon wings and heightened senses

chronic insomniac

Forseti: 

Official Librarian

20 years old

hybrid with an unknown entity

has black fingers with sharp claws

always wears gloves to hide them

can create portals to places he’s been or to people he knows (the second is much riskier, but not impossible)

knowledge sponge

wants to join the Astral Academy but is too nervous to apply

Odin: 

Older Twin

The “Sensible One”

17 years old

Has an uncanny sense of direction

Can’t get lost no matter what

Can manipulate magnetic fields

Loki:

Younger Twin

The “Hot Headed One”

17 years old

can manipulate fire

idolizes his older siblings, particularly Freya

The Institute

Creeping around in the background

Up to bad things

Something’s going on in the world, but no one’s noticed yet

They will though… soon

Aesthetic/Vibes: minimalism (the worst kind of vibes imo), think laboratories or empty hospitals, harsh artificial lights and cold floors, labyrinths of monotonous hallways with no doors

[hello-im-not-a-possum]

26. Pipe

It wasn’t Wally’s firstborn son, Vincent, that took over his company, nor was it his middle child, Jonathan. Instead, it was his youngest daughter, Samantha, who took that knowledge working with pipes and put it to good use, although the repairwoman and plumber couldn’t imagine herself using a pipe like that before... (Set in the FIFE AU, RIGHT at the start, as in, as soon as the Ink’s Freeing everyone because it hasn’t been fed.)

Joey couldn’t help but let out a sigh of relief when he heard the knock at his door and the muffled greeting from the other side.

“Franks’ Repair and Plumbing.” After a short pause, the voice on the other side spoke again. “..Anyone home?”

He took his cane and hobbled over to the door, opening it and jumping back in shock when he saw who was behind it.

In a lot of ways, the repairwoman was the spitting image of her late father; same black eyes, same nose, same eye shape, same skin tone, same lost tooth that was clearly gotten in a fight, ...Same hat; a newsboy cap that Wally wore when he didn’t want to ruin the baseball cap he liked with ink. In her case, it could’ve been the EXACT same hat as it looked very old and worn, and it was stained by ink before she even set foot in his apartment even though he doubted she worked with the stuff considering her job.

There were still clear differences keeping her from looking like a clone of the janitor he killed; like her jet black hair kept in a tight low bun and that she had a much more muscular physique, but the resemblance was still uncanny to him.

“You wanna stop gawkin’ an’ get your shit fixed or do ya wanna keep pissin’ your pants in shock, Gramps?”

Her nametag read ‘Sammy’ and her rudeness certainly reminded him of that musician.

“I… Well,” he cleared his throat “you just so happen to remind me of old friends of mine. And it took me off guard.”

“Uh huh. Let’s just cut to the point, you say you called me for a problem with a rare machine of yours?”

“Yes, it hasn’t been working for five days now and it’s been pumping... ...stuff through my plumbing!”

“A’right, can ya show me da machine?”

“Gladly.” He hobbled into the room where he normally kept it with the repairwoman following him and muttering something under her breath. “Here we are.”

“So dis here is the ink machine?” she circled around it and tapped it with her wrench here and there and muttered more things under her breath as she took a close look at it. “Eitha you should’ve called me in way sooner, or ya shoulda scrapped this hunk of junk and not even bothered in da first place.”

“Well, can you save it?”

“Hmm…” she popped her gum and shrugged. “I’m no miracle worker, but I can try. Don’t get your hopes up though, I’ve never seen anything like this before...”

Joey bit his lip, it was an expected response, but it wasn’t a good one. As Sammy continued to work on the machine, the former animator limped to the entrance to the Ink Demon’s realm, took a quick peek inside, and slammed it shut as he saw Henry speed towards him. He cursed under his breath as Henry started beating on the door.

“What da fuck is that noise?” Sammy called out from the ink machine’s room. “Sounds like someone tryin’ ta break a door down ta murdah ya!”

“I-it’s just the washing machine in the basement!” Joey tried to keep the door shut with all his weight pressed against it. “Remember how I said that the ink machine is messing with the plumbing?”

“Maybe I should go check dat out too then, one bad pipe tends to take the others down with it when you’re not careful...”

“N-no! I’m sure it will go back to normal if the Ink machine’s fixed…”

“I can’t do this with distractions goin’ on, I’ll just shut it off real quick an’ get back ta work on this.”

“I’m sure it’ll die down on it’s own soon! Don’t get up!”

Propping a chair up against the banging door, Joey speed-limped to his desk and drew like wildfire; the Ink Demon emerging out of the machine without Henry going to it first, the Demon breaking down the boards and stuff around it and going right towards Henry. He stopped holding his breath in anticipation when the thumping died down on the other side, the story waiting for him to properly restart it so he could tell it again.

For a few hours, he left his desk untouched as he counted down the seconds for her to hurry up and fix it and leave. The already long hours feeling like an eternity as the hurdle standing between him and his goals grew more and more infuriating with each and every single tick of the clock.

Luckily for him, it sounded like she was making progress, but she wasn’t doing it fast enough for his liking. Thankfully she was far too focused on the machine itself to notice it’s effects on the rest of the house.

Like the groaning swollen searcher oozing out of his bathtub tap, or his kitchen sink slowly filling up with ink with the stolen hearts of ink creatures floating and bobbing away in the messy sink. He swore that the TV turned on on it’s own and started playing “Tombstone Picnic”, but Sammy didn’t seen to notice in spite of the cartoon playing very loudly. Joey just silently prayed she’d get those damn pipes inside it fixed and get out.

“Okay, I think it’s fixed now.”

The phrase was music to the old man’s ears and as he walked in, he could in fact notice an improvement with the machine itself.

“Wanna give it a test whirl ta be sure?”

“I think I will later, thank you.” He staggered as he fished his wallet out of his bathrobe pocket. “I’ll call you if I notice anything out of the ordinary again.”

“So what’s it supposed ta do, anyway?”

“Oh it just makes... things...” Joey handed her a check. “Nothing too interesting...”

The Ink Machine on the floor sputtered to life on its own and spat out a large glob of ink, a long metal pipe, and a tape recorder that was slightly encased in the dark stuff.

“That’s supposed to happen.” Joey lied as he reached for the plug and pulled it out.

“Uh... okay..? Have a decent rest of your day then...”

As she turned to leave, the tape recorder on the ink clicked on on it’s own as well, and a very familiar voice came out of it.

“...Sam..an...tha..?” The speaker crackled in a voice that made her tear up as she heard it. “Sammy, is dat you?! It’s me, Dad! Dis ain’t a recording! I’m in da tape! I’M IN DA TAPE!”

Joey cursed under his breath as the repairwoman turned back in shock and heard a softness enter her voice that he didn’t know that the woman was capable of.

“...Daddy?”

She ran back and scooped up the tape recorder in spite of the old man trying to wrangle it away from her.

“Daddy, can you see me?!”

“Yes!” The Tape recorder let out a surprised, and relieved sounding laugh that seemed like it turned into crying. “I was startin’ ta worry dat I’d never see ya again!”

“I’m here, Daddy” She hugged the tape recorder tightly, the shock of just having her father back outweighed all of the supernatural happenings around her. “I’m here...”

“Othas are down here too! your Uncle Sammy, Norman, Tom, Susie, pretty much everyone who’s eva worked at da studio!”

“What?! How?! And why?!”

“It’s Joey! He’s made some kind of... pocket torture dimension!”

Knowing where this was going and knowing that he was far too weak and frail to take down the amazonian woman of a handywoman himself, Joey opened the Ink Demon’s door and prayed it would come out and attack her. In the meantime, he himself fled into the animated studio just in case.

“SAMMY! LOOK OUT!” The living tape recorder warned as inky tendrils webbed all over the living room. “RUN!”

Sammy grabbed the pipe out of the pile of ink and charged.

“NO! NOT AT DA INK DEMON! AWAY FROM- Huh??”

Wally paused as he saw Sammy shove the Ink Demon off to the side and proceed to run after Joey.

“Sorry Daddy.” She said as she paused to set him down on the table. “But I’m gonna need both hands ta beat down dat sorry son of a bitch.”

“Go get ‘im tiger! I’m rootin’ for ya!”

While her small detour and Joey using his knowledge of the layout to his advantage managed to get some distance between them, the pipe wielding Valkyrie with murder in her eyes was quickly closing in on him.

“THIS IS FOR WHAT YA DID TO DADDY!”

[sams-sass]

The Way You Love Me

GIF not mine

Happy Friday!! I have been wanting to write this for a while and had the day off, enjoy!! 

Summary: You and Sam against the world 

Pairings: Sam x Reader

Warnings: Language, fluff, angst, smut* (I sectioned it off in case you didn’t want to read it). 

---------------------------

You were crouched outside the old barn, your knees sinking into the soft earth beneath you. The moon was full in the sky, its milky light shining against the water droplets on the leaves on the trees. The air was clean and clear, it was a cool summer night. Your gun was in your hands and a knife was slipped into your boot. You took a deep and calming breath into your lungs, listening to the insects sing their song before advancing towards the barn. There were noises of movement inside, voices and footsteps echoing around the old wood. You listened for a moment, trying to decipher how many there were based on the voices you heard. It sounded like five, a pack. You checked your gun again, closing your eyes against your fading hope. You kicked in the door and watched as they all turned towards you, menacing smiles on their faces. They began to change in front of you, claws extending and pupils dilating. Their smiles twisting against their overgrown teeth. You raised your gun, aiming straight at them. They stalked towards you, muscles bulging. You began to shoot at them, your aim precise and practiced. One swung at you; you were able to dodge it quickly. However, the other fist took you by surprise, hitting you directly in the gut. You wretched forward, the air leaving you. One of the wolves knocked the gun out of your hands. You weren't going down without a fight. Your fists swinging and legs kicking. You managed to pull the knife out of your boot and tried to stab the silver into them. A fist hit you directly in the jaw, your body crumpling with the force. You stood back up, your chest rising and falling with heavy and fast breaths. You hardly noticed the loud and sudden bang in the barn. Two men walked in with guns aimed and ready. Some of the wolves charged them while others stayed with you. You were able to gain control with less of them. Your knife sunk into one of their hearts. You heard the gunshots ringing from their guns. The other wolf dropped next to you. You looked over at the two men, the taller one had his gun raised.  

“Thank you.” You said through your ragged breaths. You wiped the back of your hand over your mouth, feeling the sticky and warm blood.  

“I’m Sam and this is my brother Dean.” He said stepping towards you.  

“Y/N.” You were feeling the adrenaline leaving your body, your racing heart relaxing in your chest.  

“What were you thinking coming in here all on your own?” Dean asked.  

“We’re hunters...is there any other way to do it?” You asked them, holding your side where the wolf had punched you. They both looked at you and then at each other. Dean’s face was hard while Sam wore a look of concern, his hazel eyes holding yours.  

“Here, let's get you some ice for that.” Sam pointed to your jaw. They lead you out to their car and Sam cracked an ice pack over his knee. You reached out your hand, but he overlooked it and placed it directly against your jaw. The fingers of his other hand curled around your shoulder.  

“Thanks.” You mumbled against the ice pack. Sam stifled a chuckle and sent a smile your way.  

“You did good in there.” He said, his eyebrows knitting together on his forehead as he checked the rest of your face for more injuries. You just stared at him. No one had ever complimented you before. Your heart rate picked up again and a short breath left your mouth. You were so lonely. Some nights the world seemed to swallow you whole into its chaotic center. You felt like you were in a constant battle for your heart and sanity. You didn’t know how much longer you could go on like this. Completely and utterly alone. There was a constant and overwhelming ache in your chest for the touch of another.  

“So did you.” You smiled at him with the side of your mouth that wasn’t covered with the ice pack. He looked into your eyes then, really looked into them and you felt the wave of heat wash over you. You shifted slightly feeling warm and cloudy under his gaze. He licked his lips and smiled, showing off dimples and his pink tongue.  

“Do you..uh do you wanna grab a drink?” He asked, taking the ice pack off your jaw, holding your eyes with his.  

“Yeah. I think I would like that, Sam.”  

------------------------------

You were sitting on the windowsill in the motel. Hot and heavy tears fell down your face and into your pajama shirt. The moon was a small sliver in the sky, leaving the rest of the world in darkness. You sniffled and wiped your nose with your shirt.  

“Hey.” Sam whispered from his bed. You looked over to see him propped up on one elbow, his shaggy hair falling into his eyes. You lowered your head and covered your face with your hands, trying to hold back the fresh wave of tears. Sam climbed out of bed and walked over to you, placing his hands on your shoulders and pulling you to him. You buried your face in his massive chest and let yourself feel it. Fell all of it.  

“I couldn’t save her.” You whispered, your chin still shaking. Sam ran his hand over your hair and wrapped his other arm protectively around you.  

“You did your best. It's so hard to know we can’t save everyone, but that doesn’t make it hurt any less.” His voice was low in his chest. Before you could respond, he slid his hands down your body and hooked his hands under your thighs. He lifted you to him, placing you against his chest. You wrapped your legs around his waist and nuzzled your face into his shoulder. He walked back to the bed and sat on the edge, you in his lap. The two of you stayed like that until your eyes dried slightly and your body relaxed. He laid you down in the bed and smoothed his hands over the blanket, making sure you were comfortable. He kissed your forehead and then climbed into bed next to you, pulling you into him. He listened to the sound of your breathing and waited until it was completely steady before allowing himself to fall asleep.  

----------------------------

You ran as fast as you could through the woods, hearing the blood pumping in your ears. The vamp was fast behind you, silently catching up to you. Your lungs were burning in your chest, your arms pumping by your sides. It had been bad; the hunt was a straight ambush. They came at you from all sides, one of them chased after you when Dean lit the house on fire. You turned and reached for your machete on your hip. The vamp caught up to you and grabbed you, violently yanking you towards him. His teeth sunk into your neck, pulling the blood through the wound. You let out a scream and pushed him off you with all your strength. He fell back with a smile. He was stronger now that he had fed. He stepped towards you again and with every ounce of energy you had left you swung your machete hard. His head falling to the ground before his body. You collapsed then too. Your vision getting fuzzy and your heart pounding in your chest. You tried to catch yourself, your hand leaning on a tree. It was too late and you had lost too much blood. You swallowed and felt your head tilt back before your knees gave out and you fell to the ground. You thought you heard Sam’s voice in the distance. It was too dark and you were too tired.  

Sam found you laying in the middle of the woods. The wound on your neck was bleeding profusely. He quickly took his jacket off and pressed it to your neck, trying to stop the bleeding. He cupped one side of your face with his hand, trying to get you to wake up. Your body was twitching slightly and your eyes were rolling in your head. He quickly gathered you into his arms and ran through the woods. He felt your hot and thick blood on his shirt as he threw himself into the impala.  

“Drive!” He yelled to Dean. They fishtailed out and raced back to the motel. Sam was trying to remain calm, trying to tell himself he could fix this, but you had already lost so much blood. He couldn’t lose you. You were his everything. You were the love of his life. He needed you for the good, the bad, and the ugly. You were his happiness. You were his peace and calm. He couldn’t get through another night without knowing you would be there next to him. He didn’t want to wake in the morning if he couldn’t wrap you tightly into his arms.  

Sam carried you into the motel room and laid you down onto the bed. He took a pair of scissors and cut your shirt open, ripping it from your body. He grabbed the dental floss and needle and held you down as Dean poured whiskey over the wound. Then Sam slowly and gently stitched you up, being as careful and as diligent as he could. His long fingers giving him the cleanest and neatest stich they could. He wiped down your wound with a cloth and warm water, wiping away all the blood. He taped gauze over it and waited for you to wake up. Your chest was coming in long and steady breaths. Sam sat beside you and checked your pulse regularly. He held your hand in his, running his thumb over your skin. Your eyes fluttered and rolled before opening. You moved your head and immediately winched in pain and tried to grab your neck. Sam stopped you, holding both your hands in his.  

“Hey, don’t move too much. You lost a lot of blood.” He said softly, trying not to scare you.  

“Sam.” That was all you said, his name and Sam’s chest tightened.  

“Y/N. You scared me so bad. I thought I lost you there for a moment.” Sam laid down next to you, looking into your eyes. You smiled at him, you looked weak, tired. He reached over and ran his fingertips along your cheek.  

“I thought I was gone for a moment too.” You whispered, your eyes closing at his touch.  

“I love you.” The words fell out of his mouth. Although he had thought it many times, this was the first time he had said it out loud. Your eyes shot open and your lips parted.  

“I love you too.” You said, your voice breathy.  

----------------------

******************

Sam was behind you; your back was arched into the bed. His hips snapped against you forcefully. A covering of sweat coated your entire body. Your fingers gripped the sheets as pleasure completely consumed you. Sam twisted his hand into your hair, taking a fistful between his fingers. He yanked you up to him, your back pressed against his chest. His hips rolled and your mouth hung open at the new position. His mouth worked over your neck and shoulder. Teeth nipping at your hypersensitive flesh.  

“I love you so fucking much.” His voice was so deep it made his chest rumple against you. You let out a loud moan, his touch and words driving you over the edge. His mouth was right next to your ear. His breath on your skin made a shiver run down your spine.

“I love you too, Sam. So much.” Your voice was high pitched, your head tilted back against his shoulder.  

“Come for me, baby.” He commanded. That was all it took. Your eyes closed and a strangled sound left your mouth. You clamped down on him, pulling a low grunt from him. He came inside you, filling you with him. He held you tightly in his arms as he laid the two of you on the bed. His chest rose and fell with heavy breaths. Your heart was pounding in your chest. He wrapped his strong arms around you and kissed your back and neck.  

“Don’t ever let me go.” You said, turning your head to look at him.  

“Never.” He whispered, molding his lips to yours.  

****************

------------------

A sound in the hallway is what woke you up. Your face scrunched and you rolled over, not finding Sam. You sat up and ran your fingers over his side of the bed, your eyebrows furrowing on your forehead. You got up and walked into the bunker. You rubbed your eyes and yawned against the morning air. You walked into the library, expecting to see him hanging over a book. He wasn’t there. You made your way into the kitchen, not there either. Your hunter senses kicked in and you raced back to your room to grab your gun. Your hand caught the edge of the door frame and you skidded into the room. Sam was standing in the middle of the room, a shy smile on his face.  

“Happy Birthday.” He said, his smile growing wider. You stopped and took in a breath. He was holding a tray in his hands, your favorite breakfast on it.  

“What's all this?” You asked, taking a step towards him.  

“Baby, it’s your birthday, this is all for you.” He placed the tray down on the bed, sitting next to it. You smiled and crawled on the bed next to him. You shared the breakfast with longing stares and shy smiles.  

“Thank you for all this.” You said after you were both done eating.  

“One more thing.” He pulled a jewelry box from his pocket and handed it to you. You looked at him for a moment before opening the box. Inside sat a simple chain with two stones on it.  

“Our birthstones.” You whispered, your fingertips running over the necklace.  

“Well...yeah.” He was nervous, you could tell by the way he rubbed the back of his neck.  

“I love it. It’s perfect.” You looked him directly in the eye and felt yourself melt.  

“Yeah?” He perked up slightly, a wide smile spreading across his face.  

“Yeah. Thank you so much, Sam.” You took the necklace from the box and undid the clasp.  

“Here, allow me.” He took the necklace from you and waited for you to turn around. He laid it over your chest and did the clasp in the back. His hands ran down your arms, squeezing your skin slightly. You touched the necklace and looked up at him. This was it. This is what people talked about. This was love, real and passionate love. A love that stopped time. A love to cross oceans for. You jumped on him, wrapping your arms around his neck and held him tight. He laughed slightly, but quickly wrapped himself around you, holding you even tighter.  

---------------------

You were in your chair, a sweater draped across your shoulders. You set your cup of tea down on the table and turned the page in your book. A hand fell on your arm. You leaned your head back to see Sam standing behind you. His once chiseled and muscular body now lean and slightly wrinkled with time. You reached up and covered his hand with yours. A smile warmed your whole face. His fingers played with a strand of your graying hair.  

“Did you know your still as beautiful as the day I first saw you?” He said.  

“Well now, that’s a lie.” You laughed, watching the crinkles around his eyes deepen with his smile.  

“I mean it, Y/N. You and me. That’s all that matters.” He knelt in front of you, his hand coming up to touch the necklace he got you all those years ago.  

“You and me.” You agreed.

[unlocktxt]

♫ mellifluous | k.hk ♫

kai kamal huening

❦ genre: angst, fluff, greek gods au, hueningkai x reader, apollo kai!au, modern

❦ description: all y/n has ever known was death, but when encountering an upbeat god that starts to change.

❦ word count: 6,478

❦ warning!!: mentions of illness, death, somewhat in depth about the death and illness, curses, mentions cult like gathering, puking, blood. maybe some swearing

the calluses on your finger tips burned as you continued to run your skin against the strings on the fingerboard. your eyes were concentrated, focusing on the notes while the bow glided against the strings. the vibrations sending out a high-pitched melody into the warm air. you had practiced for hours, weeks even, and you couldn’t get enough. it eased the pit in your stomach that never seemed to fill.

you ended the melody slowly and gracefully, before letting out a deep breath. when you placed your violin in its case, you ignored your shaky hands and moved to your water on the side of the desk. it only took one big gulp before you heard a knock at your door. you hadn’t been expecting anyone, so the knock threw you off guard. nonetheless, you walked towards the door, opening it only to be met with the wind. you assumed a few kids were playing ding dong ditch, however, the piece of paper taped to your door told you other wise. you just had to hope it wasn’t a water cut-off notice.

your slender fingers tore the yellow tinted paper off of the door, skimming over it.

SESSION FOR HEALING!

it read in big bolder letters, you couldn’t help but scoff- wondering how many people they were trying to scam. the more you read the less you thought it was a scam, more like a religious group recruiting others... so a cult. you didn’t bother looking at the paper again before you crumbled it up, tossing it in the trash.

it was only six in the afternoon and you were already exhausted, leading you to the fridge for a quick snack. when you opened the white door the cold air refreshed you until you realized the lack of food. the only thing standing out to you being the small jar filled with pickles. you knew they wouldn’t be the best choice, but you needed something to tie you over... at least until you went to the grocery store.

your hand wrapped around the top, gripping hard as you tried to open the jar. no matter hard hard you tried twisting the top, it wouldn’t budge. at this point the jar only seemed to be taunting you, reminding you of just how weak you were. you don’t know what hit you, but before you knew it the jar was flying towards the ground- shattering causing the pickles to be wasted. your clenched fist was released as you let out a breath, you shouldn’t of wasted your energy like that, but it felt good. the only downside to this was that you no longer had food in your house- make that two downsides as you grabbed a trash bag preparing to clean up.

the glass from the jar was scattered on the floor, making it harder for you to pinpoint where each piece was. you carefully picked up each piece, but hissed in pain after the sharp glass slid against your already torn up finger tip. the piece of glass fell to the floor as you brought the bleeding finger to your mouth, sucking away the blood as you reached to the cabinet containing the bandaids. after you lazily wrapped your finger in the bandaid, you finished cleaning up. the wasted pickles causing your stomach to growl.

“maybe i should just go to the store right now.” you mumbled, a frown on your face when you acknowledged that you wouldn’t be able to take your nap.

despite wanting to take a nap, you knew you shouldn’t go to bed hungry... or was it just the fact that you knew your stomach wouldn’t let you? either way you already decided it was time to get some groceries, so you grabbed your plain keychain with your car keys and slipped on your slippers. you struggled to drag your feet over to the door and couldn’t miss your jacket that hung right beside it. being someone who got cold really easily, you decided to bring it, despite the warm and humid weather outside.

the sleep deprivation seemed to get ahold of you, your mind and body in autopilot for certain parts of the journey. it didn’t bother you though because there was nothing that ever really interested you. why would you want to see the world that’s even more colorful than you, despite being trashed by its very own inhabitants?

you used to try to be a positive person, but lately things just seem helpless. you were tired of the doctor visits and sometimes just debated running away from everything. a nice escape to the beach or something. your thoughts enveloped you the whole ride, so when you got to the grocery store and nearly ran a boy over... let’s just say you were shot back to earth.

the young, brown haired boy wasn’t fazed at all, continuing to walk towards this big orange tent by the grocery store. your eyes were darting around, thinking that you really traumatized this boy. although a part of you wanted to leave him be, the angel on your shoulder really pushed for the very opposite, which is why you decide to park in the closest spot.

you barely even had time to get out of your car because he was already at the entrance of the tent. your weak and tired body couldn’t catch up even though you were putting a lot of effort into your speed walk.

“i should’ve just honked at him.” you mumble as you stand in front of the tent. it was sketchy! why in the hell would this tent be right here?

you wish that you would’ve just ignored him, but at this point you’ve come to far to go back now... even if it was just a few yards. you were out of breath okay? chasing after him wasted your already depleted energy.

with shaky hands, you took a deep breath and walked inside the tent. although it seemed huge, it was pretty small. around twenty people sit in seats as they listen to some dude standing in front of a podium. your stomach felt a little queasy because of how uncomfortable you were. you just wanted to find the dude and get out of here, so you scanned around the room until you saw his plant like crown accessory. he sat at the back, all alone in the corner.

you let out a small breath as you struggled your way to him. he didn’t even acknowledge your presence and you were tired of the preacher like man staring at you. you huff as you sit beside the handsome man.

“hey... are you okay?” you whisper to him as you eye the preacher that was talking nonsense. oh god... did you just walk into a cult meeting. the boy didn’t answer you, only furthering your suspicions.

“that’s my cue to leave.” you decided that he was ok because well he walked all the way here and you were not willing to be sacrificed.

“do you believe?” his sudden melodic voice made you jump. nobody turned their attention to him despite how loud he was... yet you couldn’t even stand up without getting glares.

“believe in what?” he was cute... that you had no problem with admitting, although he may be in a cult. he sparked your curiosity... though you blamed your questions on making sure he was okay.

“what he’s saying,” he pointed to the preacher, causing your eyes to look between the two of them, “that gods... specifically apollo... is real?” his face didn’t seem to have any emotion to it, but his voice was utterly decorated with curiousity.

you were dumbfounded at the question, but then again you did end up with all of these followers. “no... i’m atheist.” the boy nodded, taking your words into account.

“and why’s that.” he was no longer paying attention to what was being said from the preacher and was now staring into your soul. if you had to describe him as he was now... you would say that he was warm... like the sun.

“if there was truly something out there that could solve people’s problems in the blink of an eye... it should’ve happened by now.” you look down at your thin and veiny hands that only reminded you of your troubles. “why do you want to know?”

“i was wondering why not many people believe anymore. now i see... i could’ve found that answer out by myself, but maybe you could’ve had a better answer.” you were kind of offended by his response, scoffing as you rolled your eyes.

“oh yeah? then why do you believe?” you raised your eyebrow at the young man, challenging his beliefs. he didn’t respond, only smirking as he looked back at the preacher... who just so happened to be staring right at you.

your heart sank and you felt sick to your stomach at the attention on you. you didn’t even know what happened, but you were starting to sweat, your hands getting clammy due to nervousness.

“you have been chosen! today you will be healed young one!” your pulse accelerates. your breathing gets heavy. your eyes dart around the room. you regret coming in here. everyone’s eyes were on you before they looked down, chanting a few sentences in ancient greek over and over again. your mind told you to leave, this was way too much for you.

in a state of panic, you didn’t notice the boy next to you remaining quiet before rubbing his hands together. the panic subsided instantly and was replaced by the empty black void that took over your vision.

when you opened your eyes it was still dark, but despite the silent and black void... you didn’t feel any panic. you were unnaturally calm even when a woman with long shimmering hair walked towards you. she was glowing in the dark.

she felt oddly familiar and you wondered if you’ve ever seen her before.

“he’s your only chance at survival.” her voice was soft and delicate, but her words left you confused.

“what do you mean?” you asked, walking towards her. she was wearing a white drape.

“he who placed the curse... it is he that must reverse the curse.” she was speaking nonsense and you started to grow panicked. it felt like your time was running out.

“who?” you asked, trying your best to make it to the woman that only got further and further away from you. she didn’t answer.

“who!” you yelled now, demanding an answer in desperation.

“apo-”

you gasp for air as you spring up from the floor. the people around you didn’t show any signs of worry, only looking at you in expectation. for a split second you forgot where you were.

you rushed to get out of that place, not wanting to suffer from their delusions. as you rushed away, you missed the boy with the laurel wreath watching you with challenging eyes.

you took in a deep breath at the fresh air. it wasn’t as stuffy and creepy as it was in that tent. you even wondered if you should just go home. it had already been an hour and your body was heavy from the exhaustion... but with your body you knew you couldn’t last without food. despite the exhaustion, you made your way to the grocery store. you’d only get the bare necessities, like a few frozen foods and instant ramen.

the trip around the grocery store was exhausting, but your mind escaped your body thinking about what just happened. that... dream just felt a little to real, but on top of that... you were curious as to what the woman meant.

“apo...” you mumbled, trying to think of anything that could remind you of. the chilling air coming from the fridge caused you to wrap your arms around your body.

“apollo 13?” you question, grabbing the frozen meat. “no... apollo 13 isn’t a pers-” like a lightning bolt, it struck you.

the memory of the worshippers in the tent came rushing back. “apollo.” was he real or were you just losing your mind?

you weren’t really going to let a simple dream convince you... right?

you shook your head as you make your way over to the self check out in a daze. there’s no way.

you were getting anxious. impatient. curious. what was it that you were feeling? you never really got too emotional because... what was the point? it wouldn’t magically heal you, but for once... you allowed yourself to take in these emotions.

hope. you had hope that maybe... just maybe somebody could help you. the feeling consumed you, making your whole body jittery. the line infront of you just seemed to get longer and longer.

why were you so excited about this? I shouldn’t get my hopes up. and your mood deflates. you’ve tried everything. who’s to say that this won’t be a bust?

with the lack of energy, you slowly waited for the line to get shorter.

you could hardly remember much of yesterday, the exhaustion took over you quickly the other day. you almost didn’t put up your groceries, which would’ve sucked for the frozen food.

even thought the rest of the night was forgotten, you remembered one thing. apollo and the dream you had. you researched some about him last night and sure enough... after getting confused on what he was supposed to be the god of... you managed to see that he could help you. what stood out to you being “god of healing, medicine, and knowledge.”

that was all you really needed... you don’t know why he had to be so complicated.

despite destroying your hopes yesterday, you still wanted to try. you may be able to ignore the hope hidden within, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t there.

you wanted to try making an offering and see if that would help, but in all honesty... you didn’t know what you were doing. you read a little bit on the internet and decided to roll with it.

you made a small space for this and lit the candle. you violin was next to you, as you heard he loves music. taking a deep breath you started to pray.

“...may you accept this offering.” you grabbed a laurel leaf and lit it, placing it into the small cup in front of you. then you grabbed your violin.

you took a deep breath before correcting your posture. you planned on playing from your heart, after a long silence the bow was placed onto the strings. once more, the melody coming from your instrument soothed your aching body. although the melody would sound melancholic, it seemed to ease the gloomy room.

it didn’t take you long to finish, becoming filled with despair. you knew that it wouldn’t happen all at once, but you felt nothing. everything was the way it was before, cold and empty.

sighing, you placed your violin in its case and blew out the candle.

“y/n, I think we both know you could’ve done a way better job than that.” a soft, but bright voice came from behind you, causing your eyes to expand. you turned around quickly, staring at the beautiful boy in front of you.

“y-you!” you stutter, recognizing the bot from the other day. the creepy one that you almost ran over.

“you? excuse me? i have a name you know.” he pointed behind you, towards the mini alter. you could only stare blankly.

“a-apollo?” you were stunned looking at the boy. there was no way... yeah you heard apollo was stunning, but shouldn’t he be older?

“the one and only. you know... usually when people call upon me... there’s more respect.” he sat on the couch, his laurel wreath sat eligently on his head. the perfect features, but his clothes... a hoodie and sweatpants.

“holy shit... you’re real. oh mighty apollo forgive me!” you didn’t know how to react. you didn’t do enough research for this!

“...yeah please call me hueningkai... if not then it gets a little awkward. i normally don’t show myself like this, however i was curious as to why an atheist would ask for me. you seemed pretty set on not believing, but here you are... asking for my help.” he only looked at you, who sat on the floor trying to process what was happening.

“look... i know this is kind of uncalled for, but you seem to be my last hope. i had... a dream i guess that led me to you.” you looked at him with pleading eyes, begging him not to leave you.

“were you not helped yesterday?” he asked, his head tilting to the side with his eyebrows furrowed.

“no?” you questioned. you didn’t feel any different, in fact you felt worse. “i’ll just say it... i’m dying.”

“so... you want to escape death? sorry I’m not the one for that... i don’t even think you could get hades or thanatos to help you on that.”

“no... that’s not the point. i can accept death, but something tells me this isn’t normal. i don’t think it’d be a fair death-”

“i mean... sometimes dying just has to happen... I’ve witnessed a bunch of... unfair deaths, but that doesn’t mean they can’t happen.” he sighed, getting up and walking to your fridge. you tried to explain the uneasy feeling you have about this sickness, but he wasn’t giving you a second thought.

“i- please listen to me. it’s an illness. I’m dying from an illness that the doctors can’t treat... it’s nothing they’re familiar with. they just think it runs in the family. i’ve tried everything, so i came to you... thinking you could heal me.” you had stood up by now, speaking to his back.

“look y/n... i tried to heal you already, just to prove that I do in fact exist, but it didn’t work. i could try again, but i don’t think there’d be a difference. instead i could find out if there’s anything going on behind the scenes.” you should be upset, depressed even, but you expected death at a young age. he offered to look into it for you and... that should be enough for you.

“okay... that works. thank you hueningkai.” you were looking at the ground now. that was all you could do.

hueningkai took this moment to turn around, water in his hand, looking at your slumped figure. despite being alive, you already looked dead. though for a dying person you surely looked beautiful.

“okay, but if i’m going to help you i can’t be around an energy depleter.” you looked up to find him adorning a small smile... sympathy.

you rolled your eyes “i mean... i am dying there’s not much to have energy about.” hueningkai gasped at that.

“that is so far from right. haven’t you seen those people who try to live the last years of their life like no other? you’re still pretty young, so use that to your advantage.” it was very easy to tell that he would probably never die. it’s kind of terrifying, but you didn’t want to freak yourself out anymore.

“listen ap- hueningkai... you’re a god. you just don’t understand what it’s like.” you sigh, taking in hueningkai’s vicious glare. if you weren’t going to die soon then it would’ve scared you.

“no y/n,” he spat storming his way over to you, “you listen here. you are a human. you don’t understand half of what goes on in the world around you. you asked for my help, so remember that.” he towered over you, his stare and words holding you accountable.

“well... i don’t need it anymore.” you looked down, intimidated by his stare.

he chuckled ill humorously, and grabbed your chin forcing you to look up into his burning eyes, “i came and offered my help, which by the way, i didn’t have to do. however, since you suddenly seem like you want to die so suddenly i can have that arranged.”

you take it back... you are terrified. you’ll admit it now. you’re scared of dying.

“i’m sorry hueningkai... what i said was uncalled for. thank you for doing what you can to help me. I... I just...” you tried holding back your tears, your voice getting quieter. you looked away from hueningkai, not wanting him to see this.

you heard him sigh. “don’t give up y/n. i’ll figure some stuff out. just... don’t talk to me like that.” you slowly felt his fingers entertwine with yours before his thumb started rubbing circles on your hand.

it surprisingly comforted you, telling your body to relax as you inhaled deeply before exhaling slowly. your cheeks turned rosy, but you had to remind yourself that he was a god.

“now... before all of that... how about we go and show you what the world offers.” you looked up at him to see him gleaming with an eye smile.

cute.

you furrowed your eyes at the building in front of you. the gorgeous boy who seemed to glow in his grey hoodie had his arms out wide, presenting the karaoke building with a smile.

“karaoke... in the early afternoon.” you stated as you moved to look at the semi empty building called Keen On Karaoke.

“they couldn’t even come up with a better name for it.” you said as you pursed your lips.

hueningkai sighed as he joined beside you once more, wrapping his arm around your neck. “i mean i knew you were a... pessimist, but i didn’t think you’d be this bad.” he guided you in, more excited than ever.

“and... why karaoke?” you questioned before walking in a private room for the two of you. you sat on one of the tiny sofas, waiting for his answer.

hueningkai kept his smile that just so happened to be a little cocky. “well... i am the god of music.”

“ah right... one of the many things, but why karaoke?” you were genuinely curious, even if it was a simple answer. he grabbed the control before sitting next to you. even in the dark room his features stood out, his jawline clean and cut with perfect accuracy. he really is no joke.

“i mean... i’ve heard about it from the many many bustling cities and i wanted to try it out.” his glistening eyes met yours and like the stars in the sky... you couldn’t look away. he was captivating.

noticing your staring, you coughed. “nothing fun... whatever you and the other gods do?”

“...it’s great and everything, but sometimes a bunch of stuff can stir up between us.” he chuckled nervously while rubbing the back of his neck.

“i mean i know enough to know that compared to humans... your family tree is... interesting.” you wouldn’t lie... you wanted in on the tea.

“prying a little now are we?”

guilty as charged. you shrugged, attempting an innocent smile. his hair shook with his head and you couldn’t help but think it was like a cloud sat on top of him.

“okay now the real reason we came here... to sing!” he instantly stood up clicking a song to play.

it was an upbeat song and he was definitely vibing with it. he moved to the beat, letting himself go. you stared in admiration as a small smile crept up. although it wasn’t until he opened his mouth that you became mesmerized.

he only seemed to glow even more when he sang. he was livelier and his voice was that of an angel. he turned to look at you and you could swear he resembled the sun. his wide and bright smile as he messed around. he pointed at you before bending his pointed finger, singling you to “come here.”

you laughed as you shook your head. there’s no way. hueningkai huffed before grabbed you by the hand to pull you up. you couldn’t deny his strength because he nearly made you fall over.

you stood there awkwardly- not knowing what to do. he handed you a microphone that you stared blankly at.

“come on y/n sing with me.” he pouted, moving the microphone in your hand up to your face. he almost made the microphone smack you in the teeth. impatient much.

that didn’t matter though because as you stared at the boy in front of you who truly loved music, you couldn’t not join him. you rolled your eyes before cutting his lyric off.

at first he looked shocked, his eyes seeming to widen and only shine more as he listened to your voice. you assumed you didn’t sound like a dying toad and went with it. after getting over his shock, he smiled nodding with the beat.

the two of you kept eye contact, leaning in as you sang together. you were able to forget all about your disease that seemed to eat you from the outside in. now it was only you and hueningkai. on the outside you were just having fun, but on the inside a new feeling bloomed inside of you.

seconds passed, then minutes, then hours of goofing around passed before you fell on the couch in defeat. you were gasping for air, feeling slightly dizzy from all the action. you felt weak again, starting to cough from the lack of air that you managed to breath in.

hueningkai rushed towards you, grabbing a water bottle. “deep breaths y/n.” you listened to him, trying to slow down your breathing before he poured some water down your throat. it only took a minute or two for you to get your breathing back to normal, sipping the water every now and then.

“i’m sorry y/n. i wish it was a simple fix.” his hand rested on your thigh as he stared at the ground.

“don’t be sorry. you’re doing more for me than anyone has ever been able to do.” you gave him a soft smile when he looked up at you. your time was approaching that you knew, but it seemed like hueningkai picked up on that fairly quickly.

“let’s get you back home. that way i can start helping you.” he smiled taking your hand once more. he squeezed your jittery hands, causing the feeling of butterflies. you hope you’re not just a pity case for him.

you were staring at the ceiling as hueningkai spoke to you. it was now five in the afternoon and you were exhausted.

“you know maybe eating instant ramen everyday doesn’t help your health.” he said a matter of factually. even so he still handed you the hot ramen.

“i didn’t really care at a certain point. besides... you and that... whatever you want to call it knocked me out.” you huffed before stuffing your face.

hueningkai smiled at you, chuckling at how cute you looked.

“what?” you pouted feeling a bit insecure as you ate.

“nothing...” he smiled, “you’re just cute.” although he mumbled it, you heard it clear as day, but you ignored it. your red cheeks would be the only thing to give you away.

“anyways what do you know about your disease and family.” he asked trying to get some more information.

“well... it’s very likely that it runs in the family, however, it’s only the women. my mom died a few years after I was born, so my grandpa raised me.” you continued to eat as he nodded, urging you to continue.

“well my grandma died at an early age as well, but it seems that with each given year the time we have alive just decreases. my grandpa loved us all, but he was also convinced there was another reason behind all of it. if he was still alive he could probably tell you everything he’s figured out.” you sigh. hueningkai was focused.

“okay... anything else?” he asked as he leaned back in the chair with his arms crossed.

“uh... actually that time i passed out in that... gathering... i had a dream of this woman. i don’t know who she is, but she just seemed familia- oh! oh my god... she actually mentioned a curse. i’m almost certain that she said you were the only one that could reverse it.” you can’t believe you forgot about that.

“okay... i don’t see why it would be me, but i’ll look into it. it seems like a generational curse, however, if another god placed this curse on your family y/n... i don’t think i can or should help you as it could cause some conflict.” he sighed.

“hopefully that’s not the case though.” he got up abruptly, causing you to look at him with questionable eyes.

“where are you going?” you asked, setting your ramen aside.

“going to do some thinking and talking.” he waved goodbye before disappearing, leaving you alone in your bed.

all you could do was wait as he figured everything out for you.

you awoke to a distressed hueningkai, he surprisingly didn’t notice you walk into the living room where he sat on the couch. his had his hands knotted in his beautiful locks.

“are you stressed?” you asked making the god look at you. he didn’t look in your eyes.

“you could say that.” he sighed. this time he was wearing a loose white button down with some black dress pants. it was completely different from yesterday, but he looked nice.

“you’re dressed up today huh? are you going to take me out on a date?” you joked, plopping yourself down beside him.

“you wish.” he tried to joke around, punching your shoulder very very softly. you could tell something had gotten him down.

“i researched some about you, but this information was from like years ago I’m guessing, but you have a twin?” you asked, still trying to make eye contact with him.

at this topic he smiled. finally.

“yes! artemis... i actually spoke to her yesterday. tried getting her help...” he trailed off.

“why don’t we go out again? someone else seems to be the debby downer now.” you hopped up to go change before hueningkai grabbed your wrist. you looked back at him curious as to why he stopped you.

“never mind.” he sighed after fidgeting with his fingers.

“okay hyuka, but know that you can tell me these things.” you looked away from his shrinking figure and walked into your room to change.

seeing him like that was something... different. you couldn’t help but wonder if it was about you, but why would he be so sad about you.

this time you were the one leading him. it was one of your favorite places to go, the park in your city. it peaked during the summer time, lit up by the sun and complimented with the nature around it.

you had also decided to dress up, trying to match hueningkai.

“okay now you can look!” you said excitedly, watching as hueningkai uncovered his eyes.

“you know i really thought you would get me ran over.” he looked at you before what was in front of him, his eyes shining like they usually do.

“oh shut up! it’s not like that would matter for someone like you.” you huffed turning to look at the park, “so what do you think?” you asked while admiring the many orange, red, yellow, and pink flowers.

“absolutely beautiful.” he commented. you felt eyes on you, so you turned your head. instantly your face flushed as your heart started pounding in your chest. he was staring at you.

“n-not me! the park!” you squealed, turning your head away out of embarrassment.

“yeah it’s pretty, but i’d rather look at you.” your heart beat in your chest. how do you respond to that? why does he make me feel this way?

you hurriedly walked away, trying to escape the flirtatious man. you heard his loud laughter from behind you.

“okay okay! come back!” he jogged up to you, but you didn’t even spare a glance. noticing this, he jogging in front of you, so you went the other direction. you didn’t want to show him how you were hiding a smile, but you were more concerned with hiding your feelings.

they burn inside of you and you don’t know what to do about it. the burning passion for this man only grew more and more each second you spent with him.

“y/n look at me.” he grabbed your wrist, sending sparks through your body. you turned around abruptly, staring into his beautiful light filled eyes.

“i’m in love you.” you said. it was supposed to be something you only admitted to yourself, but it flew out of your mouth. his eyes were wide, mouth agape. there was no going back now.

“i love you hueningkai. i know it’s foolish of me, but you’ve brought me back to life. maybe it wasn’t in the way i initially planned, but maybe i prefer this. having you beside me, enjoying each others presence... it lights a fire within me... that i didn’t know existed. you bring out the best in me and i can’t look at you without thinking of every small detail. with you i don’t feel like a girl taking her last breath.” you didn’t look away from him, not once. you watched as his face relaxed and now you watched as he smiled.

“perhaps aphrodite has blessed us. y/n i...” his face dropped... seeming to remember something, “before... before you go on about how you love me... i have something to confess.” his face showed regret and misfortune. it scared you.

his hands were trembling, but they stopped abruptly when he opening his mouth. “i was the one who put the curse on your family. it was centuries ago and honestly... i’m surprised that the women in your family have lasted this long.” he looked in your eyes, not wanting to show you any sign of weakness.

you were completely bewildered, so much that your eyes started to water. “why?” it hurt to know that he was the reason you were dying.

“you had a beautiful ancestor, but... she was ungrateful and disrespectful. she challenged others and when she came to me... i didn’t have the time for someone like her. she was healthy, but her friends were not, so when she talked down to me i cursed her with an illness.” he explained carefully and you contemplated how to react.

“i just... i don’t know what to say. if it’s your curse can’t you take it back?” it seemed simple to you. your world was crumbling right in front of you.

“...it’s too late. i... i’m sorry. i can’t stop you from dying, but maybe... maybe i can make a deal with hades... i don’t know.” he seemed to lose his cool, freaking out.

you sighed, “it’s okay hyuka... what’s done is done. don’t trouble yourself with something that won’t work. it’s not like i wasn’t gonna die anyway.” you couldn’t be distracted now. you were in pain. not just physically, but emotionally. your body ached, every part of you screaming out for help that it wouldn’t get.

“well... thank you hueningkai. you can go back to olympus or wherever you’re supposed to. don’t be trouble by me anymore.” looking at him tore you apart. you still loved him, but you can’t erase what’s happened. you were just a dying human.

“y/n i can’t leave you like this.” he walked closer to you, but you backed up. you were fighting with yourself. maybe you just needed some time.

“i just need some time.” you turned around, leaving the deflated god behind.

once again your home was empty and dark, reminding you of yourself. you held yourself up, crying would do nothing. death was right around the corner. it’ll be all over soon.

you stared at your violin case. for the longest time it was your only form of comfort, so you grabbed the violin from out of its case. this may be the last time.

you gently placed your chin on the rest while slowly gliding the bow along the strings at the waist. you rested your callused fingers against the fingerboard while moving your arm. the melody was soft at first, grieving. your fingers moved against the strings before the song became fierce. you were just trying to let your emotions out, but every sound reminded you of the music god. then a string broke and like the strings... you broke as well.

you cried your heart out. the tears coming down all at once as you collapsed onto the cold wooden floor. your emotions overwhelmed you.

you wanted to blame apollo. you wanted to love hueningkai... but they were the same person. death was not a stranger to you, but what comes after it... you were in for an awakening.

you cried, choking out pathetic sobs as you grieved for yourself and the goodbyes that you probably wouldn’t get to make to hueningkai. the man who taught you how to live.

your body was giving up on you. the lungs that would help you breath were starting to fail. the organs that kept your system going were failing. you could do nothing about it, laying on the floor next to the violin.

it was happening fast. you began coughing, puking, even blood came up. you felt like you were starting to suffocate. you were dying and it was happening fast. your vision was getting hazy.

“y/n.”

now you were hearing things as the tears fell down your face.

“I’m so sorry y/n.” the man you loved appeared in front of you, dropping on his knees as he laid you against himself.

“you tried. that’s all that matters to me.”

sometimes the only thing left to give is forgiveness. with a simple sentence, the roles can be reversed.

with misfortune, there is beauty.

with power, there is weakness.

with every curse, there are emotions.

“i love you so much y/n. don’t leave me.” he was crying, the tears hitting your face, but as your pain subsided you could only smile. he loves you.

“please! please don’t take her away from me as well!” he was crying his eyes out and you could only watch. you body wouldn’t move anymore. you could hear your heart beat slow down.

“i’ll do anything! just let me figure something out.” his voice faded as a light covered your vision. everything was peaceful now.

you could only stare at your dead body as hueningkai looked behind you. when you turned you were met with a man in black. you could already tell what this was about and you would accept it willingly.

a broken violin laid beside your pale body. hueningkai’s face devoid of color as he grieved over your dead body.

“i’ll always remember you.”

[busterkeatonfanfic]

Chapter 30

The idea came about as they were sitting in the semi-dark watching the previous day’s rushes of Snap Shots on the retractable projector. It was the rough stuff before the cuts, several takes of him being jostled by the crowd thronging to see the ticker-tape parade and being thrown against Marceline, falling more in love over her shoulder as he scented her perfume. Nelly laughed more than he expected her to. There were even a couple belly laughs. 

When he turned to her for an explanation, she ran her hand over the top of his head and to the base. “Oh Buster, your face,” she said, combing her fingers through his hair and caressing him. “I don’t know how you make it do that, but it always tells everything.”

Hearing that cheered him up. With the premiere of Steamboat nearing, he’d started to feel nervous about the critics again, which in turn made him nervous about Snap Shots. What if it was another turkey and the writers were right all along with their dictionary-sized script? Encouraged, he told her a little about where he thought the film was heading and she nodded, agreeing with his plot. 

“I ought to go wash my hair or I’ll lose the will,” she said, when there was a lull in the conversation. 

“Aw, forget your hair,” he said. He was having the time of his life showing her the pleasures of the Villa and was reluctant to call it night. 

“Absolutely not. Now it smells like chlorine, anyway.” 

He’d been able to persuade her into the pool before night had fallen. She wouldn’t hear of wearing one of Nate’s bathing suits, and was probably right that they wouldn’t have fit her bosom. Instead, she wore one of his one-piece suits and they splashed for an hour, challenging each other to races and engaging in a little idle necking. They hadn’t redressed afterwards, just donned cotton robes from the bathhouse and walked around the house in bare feet. Caruthers cooked ribs for dinner with asparagus and French-cooked new potatoes on the side, and they’d eaten in the breakfast room. 

“Chlorine-schmorine,” he said.

“I’m serious,” she said, withdrawing her hand. She gave him a playful but firm prod. “C’mon, Mr. Cameraman.”

“Oh, thinking about becoming a Ziegfried Girl?”

It was a joke, but as he took her upstairs to his bedroom it occurred to him that he did have a camera. He’d bought it over the winter, only to realize he had nothing to shoot. Natalie didn’t like the daredevil poses he put the boys in, calling them ‘dangerous,’ and he wasn’t about to aim the camera at her dour face after she lectured him. So he put it in a corner of one of his closets and forgot about it. A hitch of excitement went through his stomach as he entered the bathroom with Nelly. She would get into the water and she would be naked. 

“May I?” said Nelly, gesturing to the clawfoot tub. 

He nodded, throat going a little dry.

She sat on the edge and turned on the taps, keeping her fingers under the stream of water until it was to her liking, then plugging the drain. 

“I’m not going to get a lick of privacy, am I?” she said, lifting an eyebrow. 

He shook his head. “Wouldn’t miss this for the world.” 

She rolled her eyes and half-smiled at him. While the tub filled, she stood at the porcelain sink and went through the familiar motions of letting down her hair. He sat on the toilet seat looking up at her and smoking a cigarette, pretending not to be as interested as he really was. She brushed her hair with his silver hairbrush after unpinning it. It was halfway down her back, and so thick she had to hold sections up to brush the under layers. Once she’d finished with her hair, she turned off the bathtub taps and gave him an exasperated look, although he could see she was teasing. The cotton robe came off. He didn’t have much of a chance to admire the way his bathing suit looked on her much curvier frame before she shucked it down. He whistled.

“Hush,” she said, dipping a leg into the tub. She put the other leg in, sat down, and examined his selection of shampoos and soaps. He could have offered her Natalie’s more expensive shampoos, all scented like flowers, but knew she wouldn’t have it. So cocoa nut oil shampoo it was. She drew up her knees and disappeared into the tub, dunking her head, and sat up with her hair drenched. He looked at her bubs, the rich brownness of her hair, and knew he wanted to fix the sight forever. He ignored her questions as he stepped out of the room, went into the hall, and turned on the lights in his closet. The camera and tripod were where he’d left them. He grabbed them and stubbed out his cigarette in an ashtray on his way back to the bathroom. 

Buster liked Nelly for so many reasons, and to them he added the fact that she didn’t bat an eye when he returned to the room with the camera. “I hope you’re not thinking of using those photos for Snap Shots,” she said coolly, as he set the tripod up a yard from the bathtub. He opened up the camera, withdrew the bellows, and fixed it in place.

Nelly hummed, scrubbing her head with shampoo. “We’re all alone, no chaperone, can’t get our number. The world’s in slumber—let’s misbehave!” she sang. 

He laughed. “I’m trying, but it takes an age to set this damned thing up.” He screwed it on the tripod and inched it forward to adjust the focus.

“They say the spring means just one thing to little lovebirds …”

“We’re not above birds,” he countered. 

“Let’s misbehave!” they finished together, and laughed. 

“Okay, think I’ve got it just about right,” he said. He felt for the cable of the shutter release and clicked it. 

“Say, where are you going to have these developed?” she said, pausing in her lathering. “I don’t want anyone else to see them.”

He clicked the shutter again, capturing her quizzical expression and the way her raised arms lifted her bubs. “Got a darkroom of my own, honey.” There was one in the detached shed on the Villa grounds where he cut film, though he’d never used it. 

“Oh.” She resumed lathering. “That’s fine.” 

He noticed that she couldn’t pile her hair atop her head when she washed it, but rather started at the top and worked her way down to the long coil lying against her shoulder. For a minute, he didn’t click the shutter, but simply watched her add shampoo and lather, humming “Let’s Misbehave.” A feeling swam in him that had nothing to do with lust. He shook it off and said, “Look at me. Chin up.”

Nelly pursed her lips and thrust her chin at him, giving him a saucy look. He clicked the shutter. She laughed at herself in the aftermath and he clicked the shutter. She crossed her arms across the edge of the bathtub, her bubs settled across them, and his lust returned lightning-fast. 

“You’ve got great tits,” he said, wanting to see if he could get her to blush on camera. He knew she half-hated, half-loved when he used language like that with her. 

“Bus,” she admonished. As predicted, there was the blush. 

He clicked. “What about touching one of ‘em?” 

She clucked her tongue, but cupped one breast and stared at him like she couldn’t wait to be fucked. His pulse was starting to thud in his ears. He straightened from his crouch and moved the tripod closer. Nelly gathered her hair in a bunch at the crown of her head and thrust her chest at him, smiling. It was a beautiful pose. “Now I’ve got to do the part that takes forever, rinsing.”

Buster peeked out from behind the camera. “You could rinse out in the shower.”

“If I do, will I have company?” She leaned forward on the tub again, her bubs so full and inviting he could practically feel them in his mouth. 

He nodded, his throat dry again, and stood so he could start the shower. When he announced the temperature was right, Nelly scurried, dripping, across the floor and into the metal cage. She flung her head back and the white shampoo foam sluiced down her hair and into the drain. Buster shed his robe and bathing suit and stepped into the shower, and she wound her arms around his neck and kissed him, slipping her tongue into his mouth. She was soft, warm, and slippery and he wanted nothing more than to make love to her again, but he intended to keep his promise about the prophylactics.

When her hair was rinsed and the water ran clear, he lowered himself to his knees. He always treasured the look that came into her eyes when she realized what he was about to do. She was slick and he pressed a finger into her as he swirled and flicked his tongue. It no longer took him very much time at all to make her come. On cue, she quickly began to writhe. If he could snap a photo of them doing this, he would.

She almost drowned him when she came, clutching his head against her and making the water flood into his face at an uncomfortable angle, but he didn’t care. He licked her until she pushed him away. 

“I want you,” she said with a whimper, when he rose again. 

The beast in him agreed, wanted to take her right then and there. He growled against her neck and rubbed himself on her. “Not without a thin,” he said, trying to be sensible. He also didn’t know if he could manage the angle. “You could kiss me,” he suggested, feeling breathless. 

Her eyes were heavy. She tugged at his prick. “Here?” 

“Mmm-hmm,” he said, his heartbeat drubbing in his ears. 

She sank to her knees. He watched her hollow her mouth over him, the fringe of her eyelashes downcast, hair fanned down her back and over her shoulders. His hand went to her hair and his eyes closed without him even knowing it. He endured the sweet torture of the silk heat of her mouth for all of two minutes before his climax roared up on him and he was a goner. Nelly kept him in her mouth and by the time he opened his eyes again, he wasn’t sure whether she had spat or swallowed. 

“That enough misbehaving for you?” she said, standing with a groan. 

He nodded, feeling weak and leaning back into the spray of the shower. 

They shared the soap and washed up. He found towels for them in the linen cabinet. Nelly twined her hair up in one and knotted the other between her breasts. She aimed the tripod at him as he toweled his hair. “Oh no,” he said. “Not in my birthday suit.”

She ignored him and fiddled with the focus. “You’ve got some of me in my birthday suit.”

“ ‘Cause it’s your birthday next week,” he said, tying the towel around his waist in haste. 

She gaped at him. “How on earth did you remember that?”

He’d filed it away during their weekend at the cabin, although he wasn’t about to ‘fess up. She wasn’t aware yet, but he’d planned a surprise for her at next Friday’s party that she didn’t know she was attending. “They say the spring means just one thing to little lovebirds …” he said, pulling his toothbrush out of the porcelain holder in the wall. 

Nelly clicked the shutter. “Fine, don’t answer. I do want a picture though. It’s only fair. Are you going to misbehave for me or not?”

He laughed at her persistence, and turned around and loosened his towel, but draped it in front of his prick instead of losing it altogether; he wasn’t interested in looking small in the picture. He gave her the deadpan that came so natural whenever a lens was aimed at him.

She laughed. “You’re so damn somber.”

He stared at her, deadpan. 

“Okay, just one more and I’ll leave you alone.”

As soon as she’d taken the picture and stood up, he offered her a full smile. He laughed as she swatted his rear end, and handed her a spare toothbrush. Nelly sat on the end of his bed and braided her hair a few minutes later, dressed in the cotton robe again. He busied himself carrying a down bedspread onto the bed on the sleeping porch and turning down the sheets. 

“Aren’t we sleeping in here?” Nelly said with an expression of concern when he took her hand. She was probably worrying he’d take her back to Natalie’s bedroom. 

“Uh-uh.” Once they were on the porch, she relaxed. There was a nip to the night air that was going to make the down comforter just the thing. He patted the bed. “Take off your robe.” She bared herself to him again and he was reminded afresh what a good idea it had been to take a mistress. He took his off and pulled the bedspread up to their shoulders. Nelly snuggled close, smelling like coconuts. Though he’d sneaked girls into his room several times before, he’d never dared bring one onto the porch.

The state of his marriage was always nagging him, like a cut he kept bumping and reopening, but snug under the covers with Nelly with the cold breeze playing against his face, he forgot it for the time being.

Notes: I’m early this week! It may be a longer wait for Chapter 31, though--that will be a long one and a pivotal one. Please exercise patience. Soundtrack: Irving Aaroson’s “Let’s Misbehave”: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JctNtRfHRLU Pretty risque for a song from 1928!

[waywardwrestlewritingwaif]

Raise the Stakes, Part 7

Bit of a longer section this time... Don't forget to catch up by reading Place Your Bets and Parts 1-6 of this story, linked in the Master List. (Please forgive me for not posting every link separately just this once.) I'm basically writing this one around whatever is happening on Impact/ New Japan every week, so I know some of the timing is screwed up but I didn't expect that this was going to be picked up as a plotline while I was writing the damn story.

Pairing: David Finlay x OFC (referenced Jay White x OFC)

Word count: 3,206

Content advisory: graphic sexual content, cursing, vaguely stalker-ish behavior that some might find troubling

Impact is a weird place. At least, it seems weird compared to New Japan, where everything is scheduled and organized and planned. Impact seems like it’s always on the brink of disaster but the people who’ve been here a long time seem to enjoy it a little, the happy chaos that makes things unpredictable. Everyone can and does screw up occasionally, so the one thing that’s intolerable here is acting like you’re infallible.

Since you arrived to fill the newly created position of talent liaison between the two companies, you’ve realized how insanely hard you’ve been working for the last few years. You always knew you were doing too much but being at a place that runs so differently, you find yourself worrying that you’re not doing enough. A couple of times, you’ve started helping to move equipment to demonstrate that you’re working hard.

The more low-key atmosphere seems to make everyone friendlier, which means that it hasn’t been difficult for you to get along with people. You’ll join in when everyone goes to a bar, or out for dinner. But the whole time, you’re keeping an eye on him.

You’re not exactly clear on why David and Juice got sent back to Impact when there’s clearly no plan to use them immediately. On the other hand, it’s not like either of them is going to be part of a huge program back in Japan, so it’s probably just a nice gesture so that the guys can see their families and friends before they get featured on TV every week. The nice part for you is that Fin Juice are always brought in for rehearsals, tapings, meetings, all the things that you’re part of, even if they aren’t used on screen. Impact want to use them as much as they can.

You keep your distance. When he’d first seen you, he’d gotten in your face almost immediately, although he waited until there weren’t any witnesses.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” he hissed.

“I’m working for Impact now,” you’d answered coolly. “I guess you’re going to have to get used to having me around.”

“Why are you doing this?”

“Maybe I just want to show a wider range of experience on my CV.” It was obvious that he didn’t believe a word you said, so you decided to drop all pretense. “I’m here because you’re here. Because I want to be close to you.”

“Well you’re shit out of luck there, sweetheart,” he snarled, “because I don’t want you anywhere near me.”

“I’m not going to get in your way or anything. If you don’t want to be around me, you don’t have to.”

“What sort of weird little game is it the two of you have going? Is he pissed because I haven’t told him that I’ll face him for his stupid title? Or is he just worried that I’ll beat him, again, and he thinks that sending you here is going to throw me off my game? Because I promise, I’m not falling into that trap again.”

“He has nothing to do with me being here,” you explained. “He didn’t even know I was moving. I came here for you.”

He sized you up, obviously still furious at having to be around you.

“Whatever he’s sent you here to do,” he growled, “I don’t care. Whatever we might have been before, we’re not friends, we’re not on good terms. I have no interest in being anywhere near you.”

“That’s fine,” you responded, voice weak with shame. “As far as I’m concerned, I’m just happy to be around you.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“I’m serious. I know you don’t want anything to do with me. So just keep ignoring me. I’ll stay out of your way.”

Immediately, you could see that he was frustrated. He’d wanted to fight, maybe to tell you that you were wrong or that nothing could ever happen between you again. He hadn’t been prepared for you to just admit defeat and admit that you were so sad that you’d followed a man who couldn’t have cared less about your existence all this way.

Or perhaps he’d been angry because he sensed that you’d followed him here because you felt like he did care about you, that all the vitriol he’d spewed in your direction seemed like a cover for the fact that he had deep feelings for you, feelings that hadn’t been obliterated by seeing you back with Jay.

When you’re occupied, this feels like the exact job you wanted. When you went to Gedo and told him that you were going to quit, you’d made a calculated gamble. New Japan didn’t like to lose people and their fragile status because of the pandemic and the hiring of a new president made them all the more eager to hold on to the people they had.

At first, Gedo had just thought that there was a problem with you and Jay and had encouraged you to let it blow over. He hadn’t asked, although he was clearly curious. Everyone knew the man had an appetite for gossip. But as he’d listened to your reasoned case about your job and how you weren’t ever going to move on to something bigger and better, he’d come to agree, which was amazing since you hadn’t even given it much thought yourself until you’d sat down.

You’d been prepared to just quit and go back to the United States, to stake out Impact tapings and live dates if you had to, but Gedo had come up with a better solution. You would be the point person for New Japan with Impact and other American promotions. No one in Japan wanted to manage these things from a distance and the few American employees they had were occupied with the Los Angeles dojo.

You’d asked that you be the one to tell Jay that you were leaving, since you’d worked exclusively with him for so long. In the end, that had taken the form of a note you’d left him when you took off for the airport. You’d blocked him from your phone, from social media, everything. There was nothing wrong between you. There was nothing at all between you. Because if there was anything connecting you, Jay could find a way to get you to do what he wanted, to keep you captive the way you had been for years.

True to his word, David will have nothing to do with you. The other New Japan talents can work with you. If he needs anything, he sends his partner to work things out. You don’t push it because what you’re doing is already bordering on creepy. If you’re wrong and he really doesn’t feel anything for you, it’s well beyond creepy.

When you aren’t thinking about what kind of monster you are, though, the job is fun. It’s great meeting all the new people and, as bawdy and gross as they are, you get along especially well with Karl Anderson and Doc Gallows. They’re legends in Japan, so there’s a bit of a “rock star” aura about them for you. But they’re also just juvenile and dumb and sometimes, at the end of a long day, that can be very welcome.

Karl has been jokingly trying to grab your clipboard with all your notes from you throughout the day, and you’ve been telling him that he’s getting fined every time he does it. He walks by as if he’s not going to say anything at first but as he passes, he reaches back and grabs the clipboard. Your grip tightens immediately and you hug the board to your body. He isn’t even trying and you still need most of your strength to hold on.

The two of you struggle theatrically for a few moments, until he decides to surprise you by letting go. It unfortunately catches you a little too much by surprise and you accidentally smack yourself in the face, the metal clamp nailing you right underneath the eye.

“Oh my god!” Karl puts his hands on either side of your face, trying to get a look. “Are you ok? Are you hurt?”

He sounds legitimately mortified at the accident, which makes you laugh a little. You’re about to crack a joke at him when another voice cuts in.

“What the fuck? What happened?”

Out of nowhere, David Finlay is standing next to you like a chaperone, his eyes demanding an explanation.

“It’s fine,” you mumble, rubbing at your face a little. “Just an accident.”

David’s face flushes when he sees that everything is amiable. You pat Karl on the cheek and give a tough little smile.

“Good.” David grows visibly tense as he says that final word and quickly turns on his heel.

“Think someone has a crush on you,” Karl chuckles once he’s out of earshot.

You laugh but make a mental note. It’s not just you that thinks there’s something there.

This incident pushes you to be just a little bolder and so, when you realize that the both of you are going to be staying a bit later than others, you sneak out to the parking lot and move your car so that it’s close to David’s. It’s because you truly believe that there’s still some kind of unresolved tension between you. As you’re heading back to the building, though, you can’t help but think about how you’d feel if someone acted this way towards you.

The rest of the day, you make sure to stay well clear of Finlay. It isn’t that difficult but you still notice him a few times, popping up near where you are. Is he doing this on purpose? Is he watching you? Although you’re always aware of him in your peripheral vision, you don’t ever look directly to see if he’s got his eyes on you. Somehow, though, you can feel his gaze lingering.

You putter around after you’ve completed your work for the day so that you can accidentally run into him in the parking lot. You exit a few paces behind him and try to figure a way to get him to at least say a few words.

“Thanks for coming to my rescue,” you call as you turn towards your car.

He looks up, glaring, like he wants to start a fight. It’s possible that he does, but that would involve having to talk to you and he definitely doesn’t want to do that. So he just gives you a poisoned look.

“Can you give me something just this once? I’ve stayed away from you, I’ve given you all the space I possibly can. I make it easy for you to pretend like I don’t even exist. Would it absolutely kill you to acknowledge that you were worried about me for three-quarters of a second earlier?”

“Don’t know what difference it makes.”

“Maybe I’d just like the little ego boost?”

“Fine, then,” he grunts, refusing to meet your eyes. “I rushed over because I saw what I thought was someone getting hurt. Karl can be kind of hard to take sometimes and I was worried he was acting stupid.”

You smile just a little at the admission. The second he notices this, he continues.

“If I’d realized it was you, I wouldn’t have bothered.”

‘Could you please stop it?” You can feel tears gathering in your throat and you suspect he can hear it too. He turns to go without another word and for the first time since you’ve arrived here, you can’t just let him go.

“Wait!” You run up to him, grabbing hold of his arms. “I know that you hate me and that I probably deserve that. I know I deserve it. But can you just try being human with me for a second?”

He gives an exasperated sigh and rolls his eyes.

“What do you want?”

He sounds so fed up that you lose your nerve and are reduced to a stammering mess as you try to figure out what you need to tell him.

“I think you did see that it was me who was with Anderson. I think that you came rushing over because you saw me get hit and despite everything, you were worried about me. I think that even though you hate me, there’s a part of you that… that doesn’t. And I want to know if I’m right.”

If he’s affected by what you’re saying, he’s giving you no sign.

“Think what you want. It doesn’t matter.”

He tries to pivot but you hold on to him, grabbing his wrists.

“Are you not even a little bit flattered to know a girl moved from another continent just so that she could be close enough to admire you from a distance?”

“Yeah, you’re not at much of a distance right now.”

“Am I that repugnant?”

His face grows darker and he grabs both your wrists, pushing you back against your own car. His lips flutter like he’s trying to decide which bits of bile to hit you with first. You wonder if the sensation of your bodies being close for the first time in months is having the same effect on him that it is on you. He’s certainly breathing heavily, his chest swelling against yours.

He appears ready to speak but the only word that tumbles from his lips is “Fuck.”

He pins your wrists against the car and presses his lips to yours. It’s not the wild, angry kiss you might have expected, either. It’s hesitant and soft but insistent. After a few moments of this, you loosens his hold on your wrists and you immediately run your hands up his biceps and grab hold of his shoulders. He tenses under your touch, so you can feel the bulge of the muscle there. He’s not carved like Jay, not close, but all that power and strength is still there, hidden just beneath the surface. Although it’s never occurred to you before, it feels intimate and intensely sexy.

The kisses continue, increasing in intensity with your lips opening a little, your tongues dipping into each other’s mouths, until you’re both practically tearing into each other, grinding your bodies against the side of your car. Clumsily, he reaches for the door handle and, realizing what he’s trying to do, you slide your hand over to complete the job. You have to separate momentarily so that you can open the door, but he doesn’t even give you the chance to utter a word, pushing you down on the back seat and climbing on top of you before picking up very much where you’d left off.

He mutters curses when he breaks for air, clamping his hands around your face, as if he had to hold you there, as if this wasn’t exactly what you want to be doing. You can feel the rigid outline of his erection against your thigh and you ease one hand over it, rubbing the palm of your hand along the length until he pushes back a little.

He continues to plant wet, angry kisses over your chest as he works to open the buttons of your shirt with remarkable dexterity. He frees your breasts from the cups of your bra, roughly rubbing them and sucking one nipple and then the other hard between his lips and teeth.

“Play with your tits,” he rasps, pushing himself up and grabbing his belt.

You’re happy to oblige, making a show of running your fingers around the aureole and over the nipple, making each one prick up even more, then licking your fingers before returning them to the tender little peaks.

He’s worked his cock free and strokes slowly, his eyes fixed on your chest as you do as you’re told. You try to get his attention on your face, at least momentarily, but he’s consciously avoiding eye contact. After a few minutes, he pushes your skirt up and pulls your panties down a little, increasing the speed of his hand as he stares at your wet pussy. He brings his tip close to your entrance, only to grimace and move back.

Worried that he’s about to run away despite the condition he’s in, you lean forward as much as you can, gently pushing his hand out of the way and replacing it with your own, guiding his engorged prick into your mouth. God, the sounds he makes, half-words and cries tumbling out of him in blind lust. Surreptitiously, you slide the rest of the way out of your underwear and run your hand over his thick thigh, tucking the panties carefully into the back pocket of his jeans. Let him find those a little later, when he’s questioning whether this was a good idea.

He begins to shudder a little but rather than finish in your mouth, he grabs a handful of your hair and shoves you back down on the seat. Once again, he pumps his cock, now shiny with saliva and precum, and once again, he’s taking pains not to look you in the eye.

“Touch yourself.” He nods at you and watches as you let one hand glide down your body, over your aching pussy.

The two of you continue like that, moaning as you both grow more excited. You hold yourself back a little, not wanting things to be over this quickly and also hoping that he’ll push inside you, the way you want so much.

“No,” he grunts, "Make yourself come.”

And so, a little begrudgingly, you increase the pressure on your clit, trying to keep your hand steady despite how slippery it is, watching as his movements grow faster as well. Just as you can feel yourself about to burst, you’re able to find his hand with yours, lacing your fingers through his. He doesn't resist. That contact is enough to pull you over the edge, and at the same moment, you feel the hot streams of his come hitting your chest as he gives a sort of ecstatic, pained cry.

You run your fingers through the mess on your skin, laughing softly. You have to use your shirt to wipe yourself off and as you do, you notice how ashamed he looks, turning his face as far away from you as he can.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles. “I should have asked.”

“It’s fine.”

He doesn’t look reassured by this at all. He looks a little mortified, so you wrap your arm around his neck and pull him into a kiss. For a few seconds, he responds, eagerly even. But then he pulls back, shaking his head.

“No, I have to go, I can’t do this.”

“Can we at least talk?”

He shakes his head again and scrambles backward out of the car, refastening his pants as he does. He doesn’t even bother with the belt, just turns and walks away.

You crawl out of the car, clutching your shirt closed rather than lose the time it would take to do it up again.

“David, come on, we aren’t just going to pretend that didn’t happen.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for… I got a bit carried away. I’ll talk to you tomorrow or whatever.” He never even glances back.

[onyxiana-is-obsessed]

A Chance Encounter | Izuku Midoriya x Reader

Hello! It’s been a while, I’m sorry! I’ve had a bit of writer’s block (a bit lmao) and it’s been really hard to write anything. I’ve got some requests but I just couldn’t think of anything, I’m sorry! This is all I could come up with so far, but I will definitely try to do all the requests soon! This is an idea I’ve had for a while, I did get inspiration from another fic I just can’t find it for the life of me! If you’ve seen it or recognize it, please tell me! Length: 2.7k Pronouns used: She/her

Summary: Izuku gets hurt and has to take refuge on your balcony. When you find him, you’re quick to help him. He most definitely takes note of all the Deku merch you have in your bedroom. You finally get to meet your favorite hero.

Taglist: @sweetlikepeppermints @peachy-yabbay 

Full Name: (y/f/n) Quirk: (y/q) Age: 25

Izuku winced as he grabbed his bleeding arm. He leaned against the wall, a deep frown on his face. He looked down at himself to see that he was a mess. His blood had started seeping through the tears in his suit. He could hear the villain getting closer, making him hold his breath as he hid behind a large dumpster. The blood dripped down his side and arm, the agonizing pain was difficult to ignore, but pushed through it.

Unfortunately, as much as he hated the idea, this time he’d have to retreat. When he was sure it was safe, he used his quirk and bolted. He could hear the villain yell and turned down the street, using the walls to hop around. Finally, he found refuge on a small balcony. He landed and quickly crouched down to hide. Due to his pain, he lost his balance and his back hit the sliding glass door. He winced and shut his eyes trying to breathe and calm himself.

Meanwhile, (f/n) shot up in bed, terror and worry written all over her face. Her panic flew through the roof when she saw a figure hunched on her balcony through her curtains. She almost screamed, but quickly clamped her hand down on her mouth.

It took her eyes a minute before they adjusted and she immediately recognized the suit. She’d been a huge fan of Deku and here he was on her balcony. Wait… was he hurt?!

Without thinking, she threw her bed sheets off and ran to the glass door. She pushed her curtains open, unlocked the door, and pulled it open. Izuku immediately shot up, ready to fight but breathed in relief when he saw a tired girl on the other side.

“A-are you ok?!” He immediately put a finger to his lips in an attempt to tell her to quiet down. She took the hint and started looking around, before gently urging him inside. Although he didn’t want to put an innocent life in danger, he had no choice. As long as he wasn’t spotted, he’d be fine. Izuku quietly followed her in and watched as she shut the door, locked it, and pulled her curtains closed.

(f/n) walked to the other side of the room and flipped her lights on, both of them winced at how bright they were. Izuku finally got a look at the girl, she was… beautiful, actually. His eyes trailed down and he almost smiled at what she was wearing. It was a cute little dress, with his hero suit printed on it. His emerald eyes looked around, his heart fluttering at what he saw. She had little figures of him, even some posters.

She was a fan? Just like him- well not like him. He was a little crazy when he was young, this girl only had a few things. Well… maybe a few more than he saw, because he caught sight of a couple of cute Deku plushies on her bed.

“A-are you ok? Wh-what happened?” At her words, pain shot through his arm, however, he gave her a bright smile and shook his head.

“Nothing. I’m alright, I’m sorry to bother you!” His smile was as wide as always, but (f/n) wasn’t convinced. She could see how hard he was clenching his arm, it must’ve really hurt. She even saw the gash in his torso, not to mention the cuts and bruises on his face, chest, and arms.

“Y-you’re hurt!” She argued, pointing to his arm, which he ended up hiding behind him.

“I’m ok, really! Please don’t worry too much about it. I’m a hero, remember!” (f/n) cautiously approached, not wanting him to leave. She gently reached out and he watched her carefully but allowed her to touch him.

“C-Come with me, please.” She said, as she took hold of his uninjured arm and led him towards the door. He nodded and followed, watching as she ran back to grab her phone… which had a cute little Deku case on it. He smiled a little as she led him out of her bedroom and to the living room. She had him sit down in one of her dining chairs, before she inspected his wounds.

(f/n) wasn’t a nurse nor did she know how to fix large wounds like that, but she would give it her all. Especially for her favorite hero.

“I’ll be back,” she said as she walked away. Izuku watched her form disappear before his green eyes scanned her little apartment. It was cute and cozy, he saw little decorations and accents he liked.

Within a few minutes, (f/n) had returned with a medium-sized box and a glass of water. She placed it on the table next to him and opened it, while letting him take the water and sip at it. He really needed it and he hadn’t realized it until now.

Taking out a bottle of disinfectant, (f/n) grabbed some paper towels before spraying them down.

She then looked back at the hero and slowly started to dab the paper towel onto his cheek. He winced at the stinging sensation as she continued, apologizing for it. It almost made him chuckle.

For the first few moments, he stared at the room around her, however, as she moved onto his chest and arms, his eyes locked onto her face.

She really was beautiful, this girl. She had (h/l) (h/c) locks, tired (e/c) eyes, and very soft hands. He almost facepalmed when he realized he didn’t know her name.

“What’s your name?” He inquired, watching as her cheeks turned red from embarrassment.

“Oh! I’m so sorry! I’m (y/f/n), i-it’s nice to meet you, Deku.” He smiled at how cute she looked with that blush.

“Likewise, (l/n).”

“Y-You can just c-call me (f/n).” She answered, before looking at the large wound on his arm. She gently raised his arm so she could get a better look in the light. She grabbed some more paper towels and gently dabbed it on his arm, letting it soak up the blood. Izuku tried to push the pain out of his mind, he didn’t want to seem weak in front of a fan, but that was easier said than done. He felt bad that this girl had to patch him up. Not to mention the villain was probably still out looking for him.

Well, hopefully, the villain had given up on finding him and wasn’t terrorizing someone else. His eyes slowly trailed down (f/n)’s body, looking at the dress she had on. She must’ve been a really big fan.

“Cute dress. Do I know him?” He teased and watched as her cheeks flushed red. She immediately looked down, then back up at him with wide eyes.

“I-I uh, w-well it’s um-” He laughed at how adorable she was, which only made her cheeks brighten.

“You’re cute,” he complimented, “a fan?” She shyly nodded, as she removed his glove and gingerly pushed his sleeve up. She grabbed the disinfectant and sprayed it on his wound, making him hiss in pain.

“I-I’m sorry!” She cried, looking up at him. He shook his head again and gave her a pained smile.

“It’s alright, I’m a tough cookie. I can handle it!” He could see the relief in her eyes, the last thing she’d probably want to do is hurt her favorite hero.

Once (f/n) was done cleaning the room, she gently wrapped the gauze around it, like a bandage. She went around a few times before she used some medical tape to hold it in place. She pulled his sleeve down and helped him put his long glove back on. Her next target was the wound on his torso.

“C-Can you… umm.” She pointed to the wound and he nodded, removing his belt and then unzipping his suit. He unzipped it all the way, before pushing it to the side a little so that (f/n) could get to it. She tried to keep herself calm because there was no need for her to get flustered! He was injured and she was helping him.

He was pretty built, his skin was smooth and cold to the touch. (f/n) desperately tried to be professional, but damn… he was even better looking up close.

“I think you’ll have to stand for this.” She said, looking up at him. Izuku nodded and waited for her to back up before standing. He pushed his hero suit further and held it for her while (f/n) examined the wound further.

It wasn’t too bad, actually, it was just bleeding a bit more than expected. She used the spray on the wound before gently wiping it with the paper towel. She also cleaned off all the blood and dirt off of it. Once the wound was clean, she could see it even better now.

“It’s not bad at all, just bleeding a lot.” She commented, grabbing the gauze as unwrapping it. The blood helped hold onto the first couple of layers, after that, (f/n) needed medical tape. Once the bandage was on there, (f/n) used some water to clean up the rest of the bruises and cuts. They weren’t too deep and didn’t require any bandages. They mostly seemed like scrapes.

“Thank you.” He said softly, as she continued to wipe down his chest. She paused and looked up at him, her cheeks still tinted red. However, a smile took over her face and she nodded.

“Anything for you. You’ve done so much for us, the least I can do is patch you up.” She cleaned up the dirt around his face and cheeks before adding a little bit of ointment onto the smaller scrapes. “That’s all of them.” She announced, putting the paper towel down.

“I really appreciate it,” he commented as he pulled his suit back into place and zipped it up. “I’m sorry to barge in. I shouldn’t have come here, I was just trying to hide-”

“Please don’t apologize,” she interrupted him, her (e/c) eyes meeting his emerald ones, “like I said, you do so much for us. All of you heroes put your lives on the line for us. This is the least I could do.”

Izuku smiled at her, finally feeling that little achievement in his heart. He’d always wanted to be a hero who could smile and eradicate fear from people. He wanted to be the hero everyone looked up to, he wanted to be the hero that could make others smile, just like All Might. This girl, with such few words, proved to him he’d made it.

His gloved hand gently grabbed hers, a bit disappointed he couldn’t feel the softness, and he gave it a squeeze.

“You’re a great person, (f/n). I am lucky to have met you. Thank you so much.” He said, watching as she shied away. Sadly, (f/n) knew that’s where their interaction would end. He needed to leave and she wasn’t that special, so he wouldn’t be coming back. But at least… he knew her. He knew her name and hopefully, he wouldn’t forget for a while.

“Anything for you, Deku.” She mumbled, trying to keep her smile up. She led him to the front door and bid him a goodbye, watching as he activated his quirk and disappeared into the night. (f/n) closed her door and leaned against it, a smile on her face.

She met Deku. She helped him, he got to know her name and he even called her cute! She giggled like a schoolgirl, covering her face with her hands. She quickly cleaned up the mess she’d made and went back to bed, her mind still on the hero. Unfortunately, she was too excited to get any sleep that night.

~***~

(f/n) sighed as she laid down in bed. She wasn’t very tired but it was already two in the morning and she needed to get rest or she’d be exhausted the next day. She walked out of her closet, changed into her little Deku nightgown. She was still so embarrassed that he saw her in that, but at the same time, it was her favorite so she kept wearing it.

It had been almost a whole month since she’d last seen him, and sadly, she was correct. Deku wasn’t coming back. She knew that from that start, but her stupid heart kept some inkling of hope. Of course, that hope shattered as the days went by and she didn’t see him.

She frowned a little. Why did she think she was special? She was just another fan. He had thousands and… she wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. Nothing that would catch Deku’s eyes.

(f/n) turned off her lights and laid in bed, scrolling through her phone. Deku had been pretty busy recently, he’d been rising in the ranks and he was officially ranked 9th this month. She was so happy for him, anyone who knew Deku knew it was his dream to be number 1. He was getting closer and closer and (f/n) couldn’t have been happier.

The sudden ringing of her doorbell almost made her drop her phone. She sat up, unsure if she heard right. She waited a few seconds and heard it again. Who would be visiting her this late at night?

“I swear to god, (bff/n), if that’s you this late, I will throw a fit.” She mumbled as she grabbed her phone and walked out to her living room. Her friend had a tendency to show up this late with food or snacks and as much as (f/n) wanted to reject her, she just couldn’t.

(f/n) unlocked her door and opened it, her eyes widened and she froze. The male turned around and gave her a bright smile.

“(f/n)! I really hope I wasn’t bothering you.” (f/n)’s eyes glanced down at Deku and saw that he was wearing casual clothing.

“Wh-what’s g-going on?” She asked, stuttering as the embarrassment crept up. HE CAUGHT HER WEARING THAT STUPID DRESS AGAIN!

“I know it’s really late, but it’s the only time I ever have. I’m usually busy with hero work during the daytime.”

“Th-that’s fine, a-are you hurt again?” He shook his head and laughed a little.

“Actually, no. I came here to see you.”

“S-see me? Why?” Although she may have sounded like an idiot, no one could blame her, she was faced with her favorite hero… again! He chuckled at her response and moved a little closer.

“Because I like you. And I wanted to be friends. Will you be my friend?”

“Oh, we can be way more than that.” She answered, without thinking. His eyes widened and she opened her mouth to defend herself but nothing came out. Instead, she opted to shut her mouth, and sighed in defeat. “Th-that came out wr-wrong-”

“Then let’s go on a date.”

“A date?!” He nodded and sheepishly chuckled.

“Can I come in?” (f/n) almost facepalmed at her actions. He was still standing outside of her apartment! She immediately opened the door and moved aside, letting him walk in.

“Sorry!” She said, shutting the door and locking it. He smiled at her and shook his head.

“It’s ok,” his eyes traveled down to her dress again, “Ah, you must really like this hero.”

“Oh um- well about th-that! You see,” as she fumbled around with her words, he waited patiently for her to explain herself. Of course, he was just teasing and he had to admit, that blush on her cheeks was adorable.

“Yes?” She pouted a little, her cheeks bright red now.

“You’re… m-my favorite h-hero.”

“Oh?” He asked, moving closer to her, making her look down, shyly. She couldn’t speak, so she only nodded.

“Well, you’re my favorite hero too.” Her head shot up at his words, clearly in disbelief.

“H-hero?! M-me? N-no way.” He laughed a little at her response and nodded, arguing back.

“You are. You helped me that night and I really needed it. I thought I didn’t, but I was in a bit of trouble. So thank you, again. To me, you’re a hero. You’re my hero.” Tears start to pool around her gorgeous (e/c) eyes, making him smile softly. He wasted no time before engulfing her in a hug. She hugged back, breathing in his scent. He smelled sweet, almost like candy. It was comforting and she really didn’t want to let go.

(f/n) was madly in love with a stranger, someone she barely knew. It was a little… sad at first. But now that she had a chance to get to know him, she was beyond excited. Especially when he’d asked her out on a date. Who knew, all she needed was a chance encounter with Deku, her favorite hero.

[romantic-barnes]

strawberry & tape | part three

| part three - sweet like cinnamon |

Pairings: dark!biker!bucky x reader

Summary: Bucky Barnes has the town in his hands and a lot Blood. All you have is a cafe your mother left you after her passing. But as Bucky’s attention moves to you, do you have the strength to pay revenge for his wrongdoings? Does your push into the dark paradise end in love or blood?

Warnings: non-con, fingering ( kinda public), choking, blood, humiliation, possessiveness, gang violence, mention of animal abuse. This is dark bucky! please don’t read if you are uncomfortable with any of the topics mentioned above!

A/N: please don’t read if you are under 18! Thank you for the continued support on this fic! Things are really kicking off lol

Dividers by @whimsicalrogers​

With your tears dried and body trembling, Bucky and the other two men came to a stop. You climbed off the bike, taking your helmet off. Your gaze wandered up the house. The black painted mansion you’ve only ever seen from afar, too dangerous for a girl like you, your mother had always said. The magnificent size marking their immeasurable wealth stolen from the innocent left in a ditch.

You swallowed, eyes roaming the front of the house, looking into the windows seeing figures walking by, shadows like ghosts. Gloomy, sunless orange light flowed through the windows. A deep orange, almost red, glaring at you like a warning sign. You took your bag from the bike, following behind Bucky up the few steps to the front door

The door opened, behind it a grand entrance. Double staircase, chandelier on the ceiling. Regardless of the extravagant look of the clubhouse, the grim lighting shone bright on the tainted past behind the polished floors, blood seeping through the cracks, covered by oak.

The doors to the room opposite you were wide open, a few people sitting on a couch and right when the doors behind you closed, their heads turned to you with curious eyes. 

Bucky walked up the stairs and motioned for you to follow. At the top of the stairs, a painted face stared at you, red and dangerous. You knew who it is, but you’ve never seen his face. Bucky ushered you to walk and you obeyed. Another set of stairs and another. There was yelling, maybe, but your brain couldn’t focus, placing one foot in front of the other.

Bucky stopped at a set of doors, fishing a key out of his pocket. He placed a hand on your back, pushing you to go in. You clenched your jaw from his hand on your body. 

Once inside the room, you noticed that it was a small apartment, standing in what seems to be the living room. Bucky pushed past you, pointing to the door to the left, “that’s your bedroom.” Turning, he pointed to the door on the opposite wall, “the bathroom.” He looked at you, but you couldn’t find a particular emotion. “There’s everything you need here.” 

You didn’t know what to do, just looking at him, afraid to move. Bucky clenched his jaw, nodding, like he expected a response from you. He walked around you holding the door handle. “The door will stay open, so don’t think about doing anything stupid.” 

As soon as the door behind you clicked shut, your shoulders relaxed. You walked over to your bedroom, frowning. Like the rest of the small apartment it’s blandness mirrored the rest of town. The air misty from what you presumed was most likely dust.

Your windows looked over Dawn, the lack of curtains concerned you. You’re like an animal for everyone to see, the whole town can see you trapped in this house, but no one cared enough to get you out. You didn’t want to cry, but stopping the tears took too much energy that you don’t have. So you stood looking over Dawn, a place that never really was your home.

You moved over to the tiny kitchen, looking through the cupboards and the fridge, finding all the things needed for dinner. Although hunger didn’t make itself known, you needed to pass time. So you ate, listening to the noises of the house, the creaking of the floor, wind blowing against the windows. Bucky and his men were loud, chatting, laughing. Their voices penetrated through the floor. Their presence so close.

Sam, Mrs. Wilson’s son, was the one who woke you up, shaking you from your sleep. Rolling over on your back you saw him staring down at you. “There’s someone at the door for you.” 

With a swing of your legs you were out of bed, sprinting down the stairs, through the corridors. You heard Lana before you saw her. She stood in the middle of the entrance, hands nervously folded. Steve leaned on the stairs, a filthy grin playing on his lips staring his prey into the ground. 

“Lana.” Your voice cut through Steve’s. Within a few strides you were stood in front of her. “What are you doing here?” 

“I couldn’t call you, you know- because- your house- I mean.” Steve stated laughing and Lana lowered her head and you turned your head glaring at him. 

“C’mon.” With an arm around her shoulders you led her up the stairs, to your apartment.

A look inside your duffel bag and you rummaged through the clothes, taking out a pair of underwear and a bra, the image of Bucky going through your clothing in your head and you shuddered. 

You opened the closet taking a look inside. A few dresses hung on a rack, but you didn’t recognise any of them. They must’ve been here for a long time, but you examined a yellow sundress, rubbing the material with between your thumb and pointer finger. 

Both of you exited your room and walked downstairs, but as you were about to open the door, Bucky’s voice echoed off the walls. “Where are you going?” 

Without turning you answered. “Breakfast.” You turned the handle, but a hand grabbed your upper arm, turning you around forcefully. Bucky’s face was dangerously close.

“Ask.”

Your breath quickened, his eyes boring into yours. You didn’t want to, the humiliation alone hindering the words from coming out. His grip on your arm tightened and a look to Lana you knew this was a fight you wouldn’t win. Lana of all people would know. You adverted your gaze downward, unable to look him into the eyes. 

“Can I go out for breakfast?” You pushed the words through gritted teeth, more of a whisper than a mumble. Your cheeks heated up, impatient for this to be over.

“With who?” Bucky pushed, feeding off your shame, relishing in the way your body trembled, all your confidence stripped from your bones. He had you right where he wanted you. 

“Lana.” 

Bucky’s lips curled and embarrassment shook you. You haven’t had to ask for permission for anything in a long, long time. “Sure, darling.” Bucky said, releasing your arm from it’s grip and you ran your other hand along the place he held you tight. A bruise would surely adorn your upper arm, a token from him to remind you of who has the say in this town, a reminder. 

The walk to the diner was quiet, neither you or Lana wanted to talk. Your body still shook and it became difficult to look at your best friend. A moment of weakness in front of her destroyed the confidence you’ve shown her over the years. 

Upon walking into the diner, the moment the bell above the door chimed, the ringing noise of metal, there was a noticeable change in the atmosphere. As soon as a few people took notice of your presence, more did. Chatter died down slowly, eyes peeking over the menu and coffee cups. Lana walked ahead of you to one of the booths along the window. 

Their eyes burned holes in your dress and you felt visibly naked, exposed. But there wasn’t astonishment or admiration, no, their eyes roamed your body in fear. In their eyes they were staring at danger.

Sitting on the red cushion, Lana and you waited and waited, but no one came. A peak over the seat and you found your answer. It seems that the waitresses were arguing, too afraid to come over. You exhaled, ready to leave, but Lana stood, walking over to the counter, startling the three waitresses. 

Lana came back, sliding a cup of coffee over to you with a sad smile. A few moments passed with silence from both of you while the diner recovered. The space filled with clatter of coffee cups, chatting. You sipped your coffee trying to scramble for something to say. The silence between you and Lana was uncomfortable and suddenly you felt like the cause of it, the leader of the conversation. A pressure you didn’t need. 

You raised your eyes to meet her’s, a plead.

She cleared her throat, wrapping her slim hands around the cup. “How are you?” 

How are you? 

Truthfully, you felt like you were crumbling. Your exterior peeling away at the seams. Bucky pulling at the strings. 

“I’m fine.” You flashed her a rather sad smile, but that’s all you could manage. 

“The coffee here tastes like water.” Lana giggles. “I’ve always wanted to go to a Starbucks.” 

You turned your head listening to the roar, the screeching on tar. Soon a few leather clothed men sped by. A few weeks ago you wouldn’t have minded. You’ve never seen any of them up close, the danger of the men only a whisper in your ears, tales from other people’s life. 

You sneaked back into the house hours and hours later. The many bikes on the porch freezing your blood. The chatter came from out back, you saw the garden lights on through the widows along the hallway. The many men sitting around drinking beer, their women scattered around to the side. The music boomed through the walls, shaking the pictures along the wood. 

A quick dinner, tears salting the taste in your mouth. You threw your clothes to the ground, throwing an oversized shirt on, laying in bed. The noises that crept its way in the room occupying your brain, penetrating your thoughts. In times like these, when sleep couldn’t find its way to you, Lana was there for you, staying on the phone until you confirmed that you wanted to sleep.

You got up, slowly approaching the door, listening for any danger, but your ears filled with music booming through the walls from the garden. Opening the door, you set one foot in front of the other, quietly walking through the house until you reached the front door.

Pulling the door open just a crack, confirming that it was indeed open, you took a look behind you before stepping out. The moment you set foot outside, you sprinted across the street to the phone-booth. Cold air bit at your skin and the promise of summer seemed like a lie. The street lights breaking through the fog. You dialled Lana’s number, listening to the beeping, biting the tears away.

“Who’re you calling, baby?” 

You jumped, turning around to see Bucky standing in the booth, towering over you. The close proximity of him in this tiny space making you sweat. The smell of his cologne mixed with sweat overwhelming you. Your eyes roamed the outside, two of his men stood by the booth in the darkness. 

Bucky tilted his head, a cannibalistic glare in his eyes, reaching out, grabbing your throat. You were stuck with the poisonous animal. Bucky pressed his body to yours, his lips grazing against your ear. “There’s a phone in the house.” Bucky growled, hot breath on your neck. The smell of leather under your nose filled your senses.

“I was calling Lana B-.”

“Bullshit!” Bucky hissed.

Your eyes widened as he pushed his knee between your legs, your thighs rubbing against the rough material of his jeans. Bucky’s hand stayed on your throat, applying light pressure while the other traced along your arm, over the bruise, down to your hip. Bucky pushed the hem of your shirt up, his fingers grazed along your skin, pulling at the band of your underwear.

Bucky removed his leg and you attempted to squeeze your thighs together, but he was quicker than you, pushing his hand between your legs roughly. You swallowed, his cold fingers pushing the material down, a sob escaping your lips. You wanted to close your eyes, but the fear of anyone walking by dominated.

Bucky’s hand ran up your inner thigh and you jolted as he parted your folds with his fingers. “Stop.” You breathed, but he didn’t hear you, tightening his grip on your throat. Bucky inserted two fingers, chucking darkly as you whimpered. “Please, Bucky I-”

“Relax.” He breathed against your ear. 

Tears spilled from your eyes as he violated you faster and faster, relentlessly pushing his digits in and out. You couldn’t breathe as he send waves through your body. Grabbing both hands on his wrist around your throat, your body betrayed you and he knew it. You tried not to listen to the sound of your body giving Bucky permission, biting your tongue. 

“I own you remember? Remember the heart, that sweet, innocent baby deer I shot just for you?.” Bucky’s voice low, harsh. You felt his bulge against your stomach, a subtle reminder that this is what he wants. “You can call whoever you like, darling, the police, the mayor, hell, even the FBI, but they won’t help you. I own you just like I own this town.” 

The sound of your juices filled the small booth as your body trembled under his command. Your eyes widened, a woman walking along the other side of the street. She locked eyes with you as you looked over Bucky’s shoulder, a pleading look, but she quickened her step, walking out of sight. 

A gasp pushed through your lips, your mind clouded by pleasure and pain. Bucky knew you were close despite your defiance, he felt it. Your walls clenching around his fingers, pearls of sweat running down your chest, the strangled breaths confirming his victory. The phone-booth filled with your strangled moans that you so desperately tried to hold back, but Bucky didn’t stop as you came. Your thighs shook, hot shiver running through your blood stream right from your core.

Bucky removed his hand and you felt your cum running down your thigh. He loosened his grip on your throat and you let your arms fall limp to the side of you, a devilish smirk on Bucky’s face as he wiped his fingers on your shirt. 

“Next time I won’t be so gentle, dollface.” Bucky said, opening the door, and ushering to his men to leave. One last look back to you through the glass, pure evil in his eyes. Nothing but sinister, vile, evil.

The moment you were alone, standing in the phone-booth, you pulled your underwear back up, the fabric scratching your sensitiv skin. Hissing, you looked down, blood mixed with cum drying on your thigh. Tears spilled as you hid your face with your hands in shame. 

You prayed to some kind of god for this to end, to have the life your mother had even if it killed her. A life bland and uneventful. You prayed for that and nothing else.

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